Paraphrasing For Fun and Profit....

AIM conversation regarding the previous post:

Man: I don't ever want to hear about your cervix or its changes... not ever ever again...

Me: Do you know what a cervix is?

Man: uh.. actually.. no.

Yes, I am paraphrasing, but that's the general idea. Curly, I love you. :)

Target Sighted.

The end is near. Seriously.

Okay, first off, here are the boring stats:
Total weight gained: 45 pounds
Blood Pressure: 129/78
(not bad, but a good bit higher than my non-pregnant bp of about 90/60)
Total Babies Hiding out in there: 1
cm Dilated: 0
Percent effaced: 0

NOW, on to the important stuff.

My cervix is changing, even though it has not yet dilated or effaced... It is getting softer, which is a good sign that things are at least moving forward, if not as fast as one might hope.

We scheduled an induction for next Wednesday, October 5, at 8:30am.

I go back into my OB's office next Tuesday to do a cervix check. If my cervix has begun to dilate and progress, EXCELLENT, we will move forward as planned. If I have not progressed as well as we had hoped, I will most likely be heading into the hospital on Tuesday evening for a Cervidil treatment which will hopefully encourage things along and begin dilation. Once I am dilated 2cm or so, whether by nature or by Cervidil, we can start a pitocin drip on Wednesday morning at 8:30, break the water sometime fairly soon thereafter, and... with any luck.... 12 hours or less later we will be greeting our new baby boy.

Mark your calendars, people.... October 5, we are looking for an induction.

There is the slight chance that I will not dilate on my own, and that the Cervidil will not work..... in which case, I would go back home and wait until there is another opening and I have progressed, or until I go into labor spontaneously. In case of this scenario becoming reality, please send flowers care of Northern Virginia Maximum Security Mental Health Clinic, as I will most certainly need to be institutionalized for a seriously long time..... My hopes are UP, people... everyone cross fingers, toes, elbows, and knees for us, because we are going all in that this baby will make his appearance sometime next Wednesday!!

And yes, that was a shameless poker reference... because yesterday I managed to make it to 70th place out of 245 on my computer poker tournament. Hey, Mama can make a baby and Mama... she knows how to gamble. (And really, isn't that redundant?)

He loves me.

Yesterday, I had a breakdown. I cried like a silly fool because, for anyone who didn't yet receive the memo, I AM DONE BEING PREGNANT... even though all physiological signs would say otherwise. (ergo, the baby is still in my uterus.) My throat was also a little sore, as was my back, and I had one big fat self-pity party for about 3 minutes. Then, I went to Wal-Mart and bought travel size toiletries so that THIS time I won't have to wash my hair with the hospital hand soap. I also got 2 sets of pajamas so that I can wear something besides a hospital gown.. because, regardless of what Trip might say to the contrary, nobody but NOBODY wants to see my lily white bum.

I came home feeling somewhat better, as I also managed to get the car washed and vacuumed so I could install the infant car seat (which was necessary and good, since we would otherwise not be allowed to take the baby home from the hospital...) I got Jack into the house and up for his nap, and found a note on the fridge from the most spectacular husband in the history of the world. It made me cry, again... but this time it was happy tears.

SO, I'm going to take one very mushy moment to say.... Thanks, Baby. We will indeed get through this last mile together... just as we have the last 99 (999999999999999). I sometimes forget that, even though I'm the one with all the physical symptoms... you're "expecting", too. Thank you for seeing me through, and telling me I'm beautiful... even when my nose runs, or when you've heard about the state of my cervix for the thousandth time.

3 things that you didn't need to know...

1. Sometimes, when a girl is exhausted and overwhelmed, a bologna and cheese sandwich and an individual-sized box of raisins can somehow make it all seem a little easier.

2. Last night, in the midst of my painfully restless pseudo-slumber, I managed to have a dream. Not your average, run-of-the-mill, vivid pregnant dream; No, this was one of the dreaded "vivid and so disturbing I'm not sure I'll sleep for a week" variety. In it, my distended, pregnant belly had a face. Somehow, the baby's face was ON my belly... so I could see what he looked like, but he was also somehow still inside my belly.... and I kept saying "yes, it's great to see what he looks like but he needs to hurry up and get BORN already!". Somehow, the me in the dream remained undisturbed by the fact that her belly had EYES with lashes, lids, and brows... a nose... a mouth with lips that opened and closed silently... as though this were the most normal thing in the world.

I woke up vowing never to drink gatorade before bed again. I think all those electrolytes did something to my brain.

3. Tuesday is exactly 2 days away. Is it wrong that I am tempted to do jumping jacks for a while, to encourage the kid to start making his downward descent? Don't answer that. YOU haven't been pregnant for so long that you can't remember what it feels like to wear pants without the big stretchy-cotton "smile" on them... and your legs probably don't resemble the whiteness and roundness of the Michelin man's with the added squishyness of the Stay-Puft marshmallow man. Mmmm... marshmallows.

I am so finished being pregnant. So, to my unborn son... please to be getting the hell out of me now. K, thanx.

NOTICE OF EVICTION.

Borrowed (and bastardized..) from one of the girls over at the BabyFit.com message boards.

THIS NOTICE is to inform my unborn child that he has 14 days (give or take a few) to pack his things and remove them from the premises of my womb. As the landlord, I take full responsibility for helping him to adjust to his new surroundings once he has vacated the womb. He will be loved and cherished as a member of this family; however, he (tenant) shall be held liable for any and all damages incurred to the womb during the last 9 months of kicking, rolling, punching, and otherwise abusing the internal organs of my body. Additionally, he shall be liable for any additional damages incurred during the move-out process. I (the landlord) reserve the right to remind him (the tenant) of all the pain he caused me during pregnancy and undoubtedly will cause during labor. This right is reserved for the first 18 years of his life and may be recalled to use at anytime deemed necessary. Additionally, he (the tenant) will share liability with his male parent (the co-signer), who may also be held culpable for the aforementioned occupancy and any damages, especially at Christmas, Birthdays, Anniversaries, or any other time fine jewelry and Spa gift certificates may be under negotitation.
Dated: Thursday, 22 September, 2005

Today Jack started pretending to be a dog. He gets down on all fours, pants, says "ruf ruf" and licks anyone with the misfortune to get close enough. It's really quite adorable, but I'm flummoxed as to why the child combines this with hopping about like a frog. I mean this literally.... he HOPS like he's playing leap frog, and says "ruf ruf". What kind of freaky mutant dogs has the kid been watching??!! Someone remind me to record this in his baby book. I can't wait to torture his future girlfriends with these kind of stories....

Next Tuesday we will schedule a tentative date for induction, since it looks like our new baby boy will be the same size as his older brother. (that's 10 pounds for anyone who has been living under a rock for the last 2 years and has been spared hearing all about my harrowing adventures in previous childbirth...) I keep holding on to the slim hope that my body will magically go into labor on its own, but that would be breaking with family tradition to a degree possibly more shocking than my morning cup of coffee.

SO, I am killing time any way I can think of, which includes an all night Scrapbooking party a week from tomorrow.... and hopefully I can get all of Jack's first year photos down in his book before the new kid gets here and I am swamped in a whole new set of pictures... I don't know that I was cut out for this whole scrapbooking craze... but at least it means I get cool pens and stickers. (Have I mentioned I have the *tiniest* addiction to office supplies, especially anything brightly colored that allows me to doodle things like stars and flowers??) Yet another reason I need therapy.

As if I needed further proof of mental instability -- so apparently distraught was I over the fact that I don't have any better idea than I did a week ago of when this child will make his appearance, I spent Tuesday night crying uncontrollably for about 30 minutes. Hormones make you do funny things. Oh, and then I dyed my hair a radioactive shade of red. We're talking fire engine, Little Mermaid, no-possibility-that-&*#@- is-natural Red. My son is going to enter the world wondering why it hurts his eyes to look directly AT Mommy's hair. The funny thing is... I don't think it bothers me - not really. After all, Jack hardly seemed to notice the change - and as I'm about to become the mother of TWO, this is probably my last chance for open rebellion against the preconceived notions people have about stay-at-home-Moms. Shoot, I may even get a pair of combat boots. Just cuz, ya know... hormones make you do funny things.

Hold 'Em If Ya Got 'Em....

Last night, after a few weeks of learning some basics on a computer simulator (Yes, I just said that. I know I'm a dork, and I've come to terms with it, so nyah..) anyway, last night I played my first game of Texas Hold'Em Poker with live humans. Thanks to the men for letting the big, sweaty pregnant lady in on their manly fun... I hope I wasn't too much of a wet blanket. I did manage to make a decent showing, outlasting both my indomitable spouse and his freakishly-doppelganger-esque friend. (I'm serious. Sometimes I think I should ask for DNA testing.) SO, I didn't go out first and when I did get creamed it was because my full house got beat by a BETTER full house. All in all, nothing to be ashamed of.

Oh, also.... there is something incredibly charming about that fact that as my 2 year old son is learning new words, completely innocent words sometimes transmogrify into much more entertaining conversation...

Today's case in point... I was trying to figure out where Jack would have learned the word "Queer" and wondering if perhaps he's been secretly watching the Fab 5 on Bravo... when I realized he was pointing out that the pretzel in his Chex mix was, in fact, a SQAURE.

Chalk one up for the kid.

F is for Fabulous.....at least for the moment.

Saturday morning I was scheduled for a pedicure with my good friend Renae. I went to meet her at her house, only to find a table full of kick ass food and a room full of even more kick ass friends. I was taken completely unawares by a Surprise Baby Shower. Now, those who know me well may have noticed I am somewhat prone to bouts of depression ranging from moderate to "oh shit, head for the hills". Of late, due to the combination of raging gestational hormones and 9 month lack of alcohol, I have been in what is commonly referred to as "a funk". Saturday morning did for my funk what that first ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds does for a dark and rainy day.

SO, to the awesome and incredible women who surprised me and let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I can never tell myself "nobody notices that I'm around".... Thank you.. from the bottom of my soggy heart. You made me cry in front of people other than my husband and son, something extremely rare. Even more special, they were tears of joy and gratitude. You guys Rock the Casbah.

I *Heart* John Stewart....

Regarding this comment by Homeland Security Chief Michael Chertoff to Tim Russert:

Russert: If you knew a hurricane 3 storm was coming why wasn't weren't buses, trains, planes, cruise ships, trucks provided on Fri, Sat, Sun to evacuate people before the storm

Chertoff: Tim, the way that emergency operations act under the law is the responsibility, the power, the authority to order an evacuation rests with state and local officials.

.....

Jon: They can't just rush in there, the federal government can't just usurp the power of the states... unless New Orleans is in some type of persistent vegetative state...

In the beginning....

Somebody insane created the blog, and now I have this unholy forum in which to express myself. Ain't life grand? Well, according to Barbara Bush, our president's mummy, it's apparently working out very well for... THE HURRICANE EVACUEES. I'm not going to wax philisophical on this one... the incredible lack of comprehension speaks for itself.

The downstairs is now 99% painted (a few touch ups needed, and the trim will eventually get a fresh coat of white semi-gloss). Is it truly nesting if I am preparing the house with such reluctance? I thought nesting was supposed to be accompanied by this burst of energy???

Oh, and it has been established that Jack has The Fear of a small stuffed owl that was made for Trip by a thoughtful (if bizarre) navy wife when he was born. He actually climbed out of his bed, plucked it off the floor, tossed it out his bedroom door and closed the door firmly behind it... before climbing back into his bed and settling down for his nap. I have to admit, though... the owl kinda scares me, too.