I’m having a rather strange reaction to the end of my fertile days. I don’t feel bad about it, but I feel bad about not feeling bad. Does that make sense? I sort of feel like I ought to be mourning the loss of babies we’ll never have. Little people whose faces would have lit up at the sight of me. A new person to get to know and love. But I’m not thinking about those things except to realize that I’m not thinking about those things.

At first, I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. That I was cold and unfeeling toward one of the biggest decisions of my life. But the more I think about it, I realize that I’m not indifferent, I’m content. I am so secure in the completeness of my family that I don’t mourn the loss of hypothetical babies. I do not feel any urges to be pregnant again or to have another a baby to snuggle. It’s almost like a switch has been clicked off.

In three months, I will no longer be able to get pregnant. Ever again. And I’m ok with that.

Sam is at such an awesome stage right now. He’s trying so hard to talk and everything he says is adorable. His walk is more of a drunken stumble/ zombie lurch. He is, literally, the most affectionate kid I’ve ever known. He gives full-on hugs frequently and without prompting. When we play together, he stops roughly every five minutes to climb into my arms and hug me and then returns to playing. He brings me a book and curls up in my lap while I read it. He’s starting to be funny on purpose. His favorite joke is to offer me a bite of whatever he’s eating and then shove it into his mouth at the last minute. Which is my cue to shout “tricky tricker!” and he laughs like a loon.

It’s hard not to have a favorite child. Because while Maddie is completely awesome in other ways, she’s also a complete asshole sometimes. Sam is seldom an asshole. He doesn’t have a temper, he doesn’t scream at me, throw tantrums or randomly decide he hates his favorite food just to mess with me. I keep reminding myself that all too soon, Sam will be an asshole, too. It’s just the nature of children. But sweet baby jebus, how I want to stop time and keep him this age forever.

Tiny Cowboy. We start 'em young in Texas.

So, I got Maddie to bed and laid down. Sure as shit, those bastard contractions started easing up and getting further apart. By the time Gerald made it home, they were just about gone. They picked up again around 11:00 and I had to lie there timing them like a doofus. I finally fell asleep, so they must’ve stopped at some point. (See how I came to that brilliant medical conclusion?)

Anyhow, the thing that gets me is how can I not know when it’s actual labor? I mean, shouldn’t it be obvious? Shouldn’t there be some inner womanly intuition that says “the birth of thy babe is nigh?” (You know, because everyone’s inner womanly intuition speaks King James biblical English.) How hard can it be to tell if one is having a baby or not? I mean, even without obvious signs such as water breaking or a head poking out of your ‘gina, it shouldn’t be that difficult to ascertain. But apparently, I’m a labor idiot.

At least I didn’t haul my ass ALL THE WAY to the hospital for nothing. Not to mention pawning my kid off onto my dad and his wife and starting a panic for the traveling in-laws. That’s something, right?

According to my OB, last night’s five hours of misery was actually productive. The Boy is now “engaged” in my pelvis and is at zero station. I haven’t dilated anymore, but my cervix has softened and is effacing. He thinks it’ll be sometime between 36 and 37 weeks when I go into labor. (I’ll be 36 weeks on Friday, fyi.) The parental units have all been put on alert for traveling and watching Maddie during labor.

The doc was again very pleased with my chances for a successful VBAC, which makes me super happy. I think. Mostly it makes me super nervous and scared for my poor ‘gina.

Anyhow, I laid down for an hour and a half in the middle of the day, but apparently that wasn’t enough. By dinner time, I was seriously hurting. It felt like the baby was just going to fall right out. Don’t get me wrong, that’d be a great labor, but still, that shit was uncomfortable. By the time Maddie went to bed at 7:30, I was miserable. I took a warm bath hoping that would help. Nope. I took an anti-contraction pill and laid in bed on my left side. I ate a snack and wound up with terrible nausea in addition to the contractions and pressure. I felt like I was going to snap and lose my shit entirely. I didn’t think I could be any more miserable. I got up and sat in my recliner, which helped with the nausea, but not the contractions. An hour or so later when I stopped feeling sick, I went back to bed. I laid there, timing contractions. When they got to four minutes apart I almost told Gerald we were packing up and heading to the hospital. However, over the course of the next three hours, they gradually got further and further apart. Finally, around 12:30, they were so slight that I managed to fall asleep.

All in all, I was miserable and honestly believed I was in labor for five hours and what do I have to show for it? Not a damn thing. How unfair is that shit??? Anyhow, I’ve got my 35 week OB appointment today, so we’ll see what he says. Let’s hope I can make it through the weekend. You know, without wanting to give myself a c-section in the garage with a hacksaw and some Anbesol.

One week from today I’ll be legitimately ready to get this over with already. There will be no more resting and more walking. And I’m fairly certain there will also be more bitching… but you’re lucky and get to miss it entirely. My husband on the other hand? Not so much. Pray for him. Or start up a collection to pay for his divorce attorney. Either one is fine with him.

Now, then, on to the subject of my parts: I am officially 2cm dilated, but not effaced at all. I’m contracting like mad, but nothing very painful so far. (Thank you, jebus.) My OB says he doesn’t believe I’ll go into labor this week, but that he wouldn’t be surprised if it happened next week sometime. I’m not at all ok with next week, fyi. Gerald will be gone on his romantic weekend away, and my baby shower is on the 8th. I have plans! I can’t be rearranging my schedule just to have this baby! SHEESH! I’ve done bed rest like I was supposed to. I think I’m entitled to a little bit of a life before this kid shows up and ruins all my fun blesses us with his beatific presence.

I’ve got another appointment and sonogram next week, but the doc says the baby’s head is “way down” (No shit, Sherlock. I kinda noticed.) and he’s in the perfect position for me to try VBAC. The doc doesn’t foresee any problems with delivery, so that’s a relief. I mean, except for the part where the baby comes out of my vagina and ohmygawd the pain! and what if there’s tearing? and jesus, can’t I just get an epidural right now?

When I was pregnant with Maddie my obesity meant that I didn’t feel her kicks very strongly. I had an ovarian cyst throughout my pregnancy and the only times her kicks bothered me was when she hit the cyst. I never saw my belly move like there was something alive living inside me. Hell, Gerald only managed to feel her kicks once or twice before she was born.

This time, however, HOLY CRAP. This kid is insanely active and while his kicks aren’t painful, they’re disturbing on a whole ‘nother level. My belly roils and shakes and punches outward like there’s a wild animal trapped inside. It is quite possibly the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen my body do. Logically, I know it’s my baby moving around in there, but on some deep, primal level, it’s fucking creepy. There shouldn’t be parts of my body moving independently of me, you know? Any they definitely shouldn’t move so much that they slosh water around in the bathtub. That shit’s just wrong.

* Go through all of the baby stuff we have in storage and wash it all with bleach. *shudder*
* Go through all of Maddie’s baby clothes and pull out anything that’s gender neutral for The Boy to use, send the awesome things to Mama Bub, and sell the rest.
* Put the nursery together – Get the crib out of storage, swap furniture from Maddie’s room to the nursery, put together Maddie’s new dresser and big girl bed, rearrange her room so that all this new furniture actually fits in there.
* Make a bunch of meals that I can freeze so that we’ll eat somewhat decently in those chaotic first couple of weeks.
* Pack a hospital bag.

Things I’ve already done:

* Procured a love seat/sofa bed from my Dad and his wife for the nursery. It totally matches and they didn’t need it anymore. Now I’ve got a place to sit and nurse AND a bed for guests! SCORE!
* Bought a few adorable tiny outfits.
* I’m shaving my legs every other day so that in the event of surprise labor, my legs won’t ever be more than one day away from having been shaved.
* I’m also keeping my toes polished and heels pumiced. Because obviously, the highest priority is my personal grooming. Never mind that when I’m having this baby if my doctor’s more concerned about the state of my leg hair and toenails, then we’ve got a serious problem.

So, you can see that I’m woefully behind on the important things. What can you do to help? I’m so glad you asked!! I need some recipes for meals that freeze well. I’m going to make a lasagna, but other than that, I’m totally stumped.

And if you want to come over and move furniture, that’d be awesome, too.