TWO SONGS IN MY HEAD

1. When Brad and I moved to the St. Louis area a few years ago it took me a few months to find a job -- and when I did I was beyond grateful to be adding to the GNP again. However; as I drove away from work on Friday - my very LAST day ever - I was again beyond grateful that it was over. And even though the theme of this song is totally unrelated I listened to it the entire 1 hour drive home, Sweet Disposition by Temper Trap. I think it was the phrase, "won't stop 'til it's over," that felt apropos.

As I told someone the other day, I'm really going to enjoy "living off the fat of the loans." That being said ironically.

2. As I've stressed about getting her nursery ready and it has subsequently become the best looking room in our house I've repeatedly heard the quote from Juno in my head, "Not like the baby's going to come storming in here demanding dessert-colored walls." Which is so true - but try convincing a pregnant woman not to nest. And as I've prepared otherwise for her to arrive - folding her little clothes, sewing her quilt, arranging books - I've consistantly and almost unknowingly hummed New Soul by Yael Naim.

ps - Obviously there's no baby yet, we're thinking it may be another 4 or 5 days. We'll keep everyone posted.

LABOR & DELIVERY

Right now Brad and I feel relatively prepared – you know, as much as one can be for an atomic explosion. So now we are just spending this week organizing around the house and purposely trying to relax. It’s weird that this major event does not have an exact deadline, she could come tomorrow or in two weeks – who knows? I’m sure it’s the first of the many ironic jokes of parenthood.

So what’s the next big step on this magical mystery tour called pregnancy? Labor and delivery. In preparation I took classes at our local hospital and read all the usual literature and books. Which merely provided an outline for delivery – nothing totally true to life. It was a general idea of what to expect with the caveat of “but anything can happen!” thrown in. Which is darn right baffling. I could have taken a written exam on what to expect in a delivery room which hardly prepares you for any hands on experience. It’s not like high school calculus – I’m actually going to have to use this information! So after weeks of nervous “what ifs,” you know what I found most comforting albeit terrifyingly informative? The Birth Story features that Design Mom did on her blog over the last eight months. I read every single post. Some twice. Some I retold to Brad. I learned that in between sadness and happiness lies every single birth story. And knowing that I could truly never be prepared for delivery - because you name it, it’s happened to someone, somewhere - has been oddly calming. As one woman said to me last week, “I can’t wait to hear your delivery story.” And now I can finally respond - me too.

Speaking of birth stories did you hear about the woman that delivered her baby while driving herself to the hospital? Sheesh – I’m not that sort of Viking, but the quick and dirty approach does sound appealing.

38 WEEKS

36 WEEKS

I didn't realize that my belly had gotten so big, I guess I was in a little bit of denial. I thought all the recent comments along the lines of "you look like you're about to pop," were all ridiculous. But apparently not.

The nursery is finally starting to come together. Brad set up the crib a few weeks ago and this past weekend I finished sewing the bed skirt and getting everything organized. I think nesting might be in full swing, but I'm not sure. Now I just need to start the best part - the decorating.

With all the nesting this past weekend my hands started to swell and so I changed out my wedding ring for this seriously awesome mood ring. I've really enjoyed knowing the temperature of my hands, plus it has an expandable band. BONUS.

IT'S A BITTER PILL

While I am of a pre-motherhood sober mind I want to make something explicitly clear to our loved ones. Please do not let Brad and I be blinded by the obvious gorgeousness of our baby and let her hair approach any of the following categories:

- mullet
- balding middle age man who’s in denial
- comb over
- rat tail

Acceptable categories:

- cute mad scientist
- fuzzy halo
- unruly faux-hawk

I’m aware that babies get bald patches so there’s no way around that – but when and where we are able to cut and trim I think it should be done. SO, if Brad and I cross over into that arena of “Oh those poor parents have no idea what their child ACTUALLY looks like,” please be the one to let us gently know. Even a text will do.

Our future daughter thanks you tremendously.

PS - This most likely won't be an issue (at least for a while) since both Brad and I were bald babies.