>midnight ramblins…

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I’m telling you, I know I haven’t posted much since you-know-who showed up on the scene, but I actually go about my day composing posts in my head. Rehearsing them out loud to myself. Dictating them to Olive. And yet here I sit and I haven’t the faintest idea what a blessed one was. Dang it anyway.

One thing… along the lines of my silly, overly melodramatic writing insecurities… I have a strong conviction that no one really reads this thing (except my father-in-law…thanks, Gary!), which is mildly depressing at times and not a little overstated, to be fair. Yet on the phone I hear about someone who does read it and actually discusses it with someone else who reads it and I’m suddenly wracked with nerves… what have I been writing?? Anything incriminating? Offensive? Anything that will totally change their perception of me? What on earth must they think? AND WHAT DO THEY SAY?!?! And then mentally I locate the little voice that’s saying all this, deck it, do a Legally Blonde-esque little whoooo while shaking it off, and give myself a cookie. Hey, someone’s reading this. On purpose. And whatever it is that they’re talking about, at least I’m saying something worth chatting about later. That’s pretty darn good! And that little voice will continue to get punched out till it shuts the heck up.

I’m cracking myself up at how the little five year old Elle shows up in all this, continually stomping her foot.

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>THE DUE DATE!!!

>So, here it is, the “big day”… no action, folks. Still 2 centimeters dilated, still 50% effaced – even after much schlepping around MOA, many flights of stairs, liters of raspberry leaf tea, black licorice choked down in the name of induction, and a heavenly prenatal massage yesterday morning. Ugh!!

BUT… things look good, the baby is ready(-ish, or it’d be here!!), and Kathrine is educated-midwife-guessing it’ll be 21 inches long and about 8lbs, 4ozs. Just to give you a sense of how you’re doing on the baby pool!

But here’s my current fixation – how do I know when labor starts?? I know the crazy water-breaking-puddle-on-the-floor thing is a total fallacy (plus Kathrine said I’m pretty much all baby and won’t have a ton of water to lose)… but to be honest, a lot of the time I can’t tell between contractions, the pelvic bone loosening, and just the Bun doing gymnastics. All I can say for sure at any given moment is that 1) something is happening in my belly and 2) it hurts. I’ve read What to Expect and I’ve asked mommies and here’s what they all say: you’ll just know. The same lame thing married folks tell single people who want to know how they’ll know if they’ve met “the one.” It was infuriating then, and it’s infuriating now. What if I DON’T know?? What if I decide, in my ignorance, that now would be a super time to run to Target for those last few little things?? Or even better, that now would be a lovely time to go for a drive around the lake? I mean yes, with labor it will become painfully obvious at some point (pun intended), but I’m supposed to call my midwife right away when it starts and I just don’t think I’m going to have a clue… and I might get myself stranded somewhere, or in a car accident or something. What if my know-er is broken, or gets derailed by my neurotic tendencies? What if I am the first woman in the history of the world who didn’t figure it out?

On to happier thoughts, I suppose… here we are, the anticipatory parents – a little delirious looking, a little hopeful, mildly deflated that we’ve gotten this far and the Bun is still holding out on us. We just can’t wait to meet this little person, find out if we have a son or a daughter, and begin showing him/her around this little world we’ve created for them. Ah, but patience, young grasshopper.

(By the way, Jeff hates this picture – so don’t tell him I posted it here).

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>belly button envy

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Yesterday as I walked around the mall on my day off I noticed this cute little lady coming out of the maternity shop, about as pregnant as I, with this adorable little bump on the front of her belly. Driving home, I saw another little gal, prego as can be, outside a specialty baby shop and she, too, had a nice little anthill on her belly – like the thing in the Thanksgiving turkey that pops up to let you know when it’s done. Mine, as you can see here, is still a stubborn innie with no inclination to pop… and it’s quite a nice advertisement for never getting your belly button pierced. I swear, mine’s been out for years now and just look at it (yes, the part above what appears to be my belly button actually used to be inside the belly button, which is mildly startling). These are the things that get airbrushed out when Britney Spears poses for nude pregnant magazine covers, I promise you.

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>nine months!

>My ninth month… can you believe it?!? I could seriously go into labor any time now, which is exciting and totally freaky. I’m trying to pack up a hospital bag and get the baby room set up for any unexpected appearances…

And here I am, taking pictures of myself in the mirror. My humongoid belly somehow fit into this cute little red dress that I absolutely adore and think I might live in until the Bun shows up.

I am also wearing my Superhero necklace, which 1) I have not taken off in the three days I’ve owned it and 2)makes me utterly happy. It’s turquoise and lime green and, as Andrea says, it will:

protect you from harm
attract people to you
and create magic in your life

I just hope this means it can keep me able to get out of bed on my own at night – and maybe somehow get me through labor. That’d be pretty good.

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