I thought today might be the day…

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Have you ever moved into “Prepare for Countdown” mode?

Totally here!  In fact, today I started nesting.  I know…I am quite far along to start building my nest—but as the days count down, I started to realize that sooner is closer than later.

And then there was the pain.  The intense, kick my butt, bring tears to my eyes, pain.

Lastly there was the extreme tightening of the belly.  Oh how lovely was my burning hot shower on my back.  It was as if I had escaped reality and melted into lava.  Lovely lava.  Although I am pretty sure I would not want to melt into real lava.

Anyhow—I could be totally psyching myself out at this stage.  Probably since I was told the baby could come “Any day!” by the doctor—the wise and trusted physician (well, I better consider him wise and trusted or else I’ll be walking into the unknown on my L-Day).

Have you ever done that?  Psych yourself out.  Just to end up being psyched out.

I could be completely there at this moment.  Because at this moment, my little Belly Josephine is gladly kicking my softened belly and apparently having a blast by the non-stop motions.

But, then again, perhaps I am not.

Tomorrow I go back in for monitoring.  Watch them say that she’s snug and settled.  Will I feel relief?  Or am I at the point where I’m ready for her to come?

Well, technically since tomorrow is Day 1 of Week 32, I should feel relief, but this lay on my side and elevate my feet is killing me.  I am not even appreciating Hulu.  We don’t like TV on in the evenings when my daughter is up…It’s not that we’re anti-TV.  Heck no.  I have a great fondness towards many shows.  But the commercials that play in the evenings are horrendous.  I believe my 7-year-old should be spared from some nasty things in life.  So Hulu, when we have a chance, is the way we watch.

Except for Sesame Street in the morning.  Our son…He’s a huge fan!  Especially of Mr. Noodle.  Totally waves each time he appears on screen, as if Mr. Noodle himself will stop his silliness long enough to wave right back.

Anyhoo—today I was certain it was time for my “Breathe, breathe, breathe, grab my husband’s collar, breathe, breathe, breathe day.”  And I don’t even have my bag packed.

I forgot.  What do you pack for a potential preterm birth?  Do I still pack underwear and pajamas?  Do I grab clothes?  Nursing pads?  Will she be able to nurse if she comes early?

Or should I just go to the hospital with nothing at all and then after the big event ask my husband to run home and grab for me what has come to mind?!  Hmmmm…

And, if she comes early, someone’s going to have to do a preemie run to Target.  My sister already scouted out the clothes and told me they are C.U.T.E.

But, if she comes too early, will she be able to breathe okay?  My son was born sick.  So I don’t know if that’s the way it works with all premature babies.  Or if some are okay?  Or…???!!!

Let’s just say.  As soon as the doc told me that she could come any day, I had a labor dream that night.  All went well (I’m GREAT in the actual labor part of birth—it just appears I suck in the keeping the baby baking part of birth).  And then the second night I had a C-Section dream.  That was a little scarier.  I am not hoping for surgery.  I am tough.  But I am afraid that with a C-Section I may prove a wuss.

Hmmm…

Thankfully the third night I had no labor or C-Section dreams.  But I did get up to pee about 4 times throughout the night.  Perhaps that was preparation for nightly feedings?!  And, as tired as I might be during those feedings, they are completely some of my most treasured moments.  The moment I quit nursing my son is the exact moment he stopped snuggling me.  So nightly feedings it is!  And treasured moments they will be.  Babies really do grow too quickly—even when I demand that they stop!

Well, the ramblings of this overly anxious momma will stop.  I hear tires and children.  My fam is home.  Yea for reality.  And a touch of sanity.  Or insanity (depends how you describe my family).

In any case—she’s still baking, and it appears as if I’ll make it into tomorrow.  Week 32.  The beautiful number 32.  It’s a pregnancy milestone, “Thank you, God!”  And I am but hours from it.

Woo-hoo!

For now, I will sign off as big and preggo.  And hopefully tomorrow I can tell you the same.  And the next day.  And the next day.  And the next.  Until she makes it as big and fat and round and healthy as possible…a slice of perfection delivered as a bundle of screaming lungs!

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