Overdue Stream of Conscience

Lest you think that something exciting is going on around here, this post shall prove otherwise.

It's not natural to be "totally prepared" for something to happen when you're 37 weeks pregnant......and then still be just as ready when you're past 40. It messes with your head. The hospital bag needs to be packed. The depends and towels need to be in the car. The cradle must be put together. But then it all just sits there. Taunting you. For weeks.

It's not natural to say to yourself everyday, "It could be today!" while at the same time saying, "It's probably not going to be today."

Three days past that elusive "due date". This is the day I went into labor with Hannah-although she wasn't actually born until five days past. A few days ago, I read back over a post I wrote when I was two days past my due date with her and couldn't believe how emotional I was. Crying on the phone with Ted? Really Kaitlin?

Cut to yesterday, two days past, and it's taking everything I have not to call him at work sobbing and repeating, "I want to meet my baby!"

Oh the hormones. And the anticipation. And the nerves. It's just too much.

To make matters oh-so-much-more-fun,  Hannah has a cold. Last night she woke up three times before we even got to bed and we braced ourselves for what would surely be a long night. Moments after my head hit the pillow-she wakes up again only to puke for the next half hour from all the snot she had been swallowing. Holding a bawling, confused little girl while getting chunks of snot and food thrown up all over me-for the first time ever I actually prayed, "Lord, PLEASE don't let me go into labor right now."

How bad would that be? Ugh. So bad. And now Ted and I are both getting her cold, obviously. I will refuse pain medication and pitocin during labor until it's totally and completely out of my control.  But drugs for a stuffy nose? Bring it. Bring all of it. And fast.

After the bawling, puking, horribly sad and pathetic pukefest-we tried to let Hannah sleep in our bed. She asked and it seemed like a good idea. We haven't co-slept since she was 13 months old and I can't even count the number of times we've gone to bed saying, "I wish Hannah was right here in bed with us." Probably at least once a week for the past year. Thirty minutes of getting slapped in the face, being asked to rub her belly, listening to her talk to herself, and then trying repeatedly to get her to lay back down while she farted in my face and laughed....well maybe it's a good thing our co-sleeping days with her have come to an end. I'm ready for a motionless baby burrito to snuggle up with.

I can't imagine how hard this "past due" time is for someone who actually expects to deliver by or on their due date. I prep myself for this from the moment I find out I'm pregnant. I've been saying "late February or early March" for months. And it still sucks.

Even though my doctor's appointment Monday was already at 40 weeks, 1 day-it was surprisingly uneventful. Baby looked good. Blood pressure is fine. Very little swelling-nothing to be concerned about. And then, "See you next week!".

Acupuncture for the third time this afternoon! I've been massaging my acupressure points for days. The never-ending rain here has prevented me from walking-but it finally let up and I got a good walk in last night with a friend. I'm trying to eat an entire pineapple but it makes my tongue itch so I have to stop after just a few pieces. I will finish that thing eventually though. Lots of crawling, pelvic rocks, squats. Evening primrose oil. Then there's that whole "increasing your levels of oxytocin and taking advantage of the natural prostaglandins found in semen".....which will become increasing difficult in the days ahead if both parties have colds.

Target retail therapy isn't any fun when you don't have money. But we did snag an awesome humidifier in the shape of an elephant yesterday.

Hannah's newest phrase is "Oh my dosh!" Cutest thing ever.

And she hates having her nose wiped so much that if she tries to stop me from whatever task I am doing all I have to say is, "I'm gonna wipe your nose" and she runs off into her room and plays quietly to avoid me. Bad mother? Or incredibly smart one?

This song is getting me through today. Everything really is His. This baby. This labor. It's all His and all for Him. If I stay focused on that maybe I won't go completely insane.

But it's not likely.