Thank you Ralph Waldo Emerson. Thank you. I’m certain that RWE did not carry a child approximately the size of a melon in his uterus for 8.85 months. No. I don’t think so.
I am waiting. Impatiently. I know my due date is still 8 days away, but I was really hoping that my due date was a little late anyhow. Now I’m starting to think otherwise. There have been two nights where I really thought, “THIS will be the night.” And they weren’t. I faked myself out. There are so many “maybe’s” involved in knowing when labor starts. Some women say, “Oh, you’ll know.” Others have said they didn’t know until many hours later that they were in labor. I don’t know which one I’ll be. I don’t know what a real contraction feels like. Ugggh.
I am sure that when God wants this little guy to break forth into the world I’ll know. I’m sure I won’t get away with labor and delivery without conscious awareness. However, I’d just like some signs that its on its way. Not only do I want to take back charge of my body, I just want to meet the little guy! I want to see what he’s like and hang out with him. I want to see how overly-confident Andy will do with such a teeny little one.
But mostly, I want to take charge of my own body again. Things I look forward to, post-baby:
1. Having feeling back in my fingers (it’s messing up my Guitar Hero scores).
2. Not dropping things on the ground and bidding them farewell forever.
3. Climbing stairs without thinking my lungs and heart will explode.
4. Being able to eat food without killer heartburn.
5. Being able to wear shoes other than flip flops.
6. Sleeping on my stomach.
7. Just one cold beer. Just one.
I’m not really complaining. All of these symptoms have only been in the last few weeks… some women deal with weird stuff throughout their pregnancies. I have been fortunate. I am just more impatient than most.
Hopefully my next post will be all about the easiest, fastest labor and delivery ever recorded.