preggotory

There are approximately 6 weeks left until this baby, Baby N.Lo, arrives. Could be more, could be less, but thereabouts. Am I ready? Mmm, yeah, sure why not. I have to buy diapers, still, the little teeny-tiny ones that are at the same time adorable and incomprehensible. I've got plenty of clothes, a year or more's worth, really, thanks to a gracious friend of mine who loaned me everything for a boy. The room's painted, the crib's got a fresh sheet on it, even, and of course has been evacuated; Bug will have nothing to do with it ever again. Bug herself is about as aware as a 19-month-old can be that she's going to have a baby brother soon. She knows there's a baby in her mommy's belly, though frankly, she thinks there's also a baby in her belly, in J.Lo's belly, and occasionally in my boobs. Ah, Bug.

As far as mental preparations, I'm getting there. My biggest hangup at the moment is labor, because though I've been through it once and it wasn't as horrifying as anticipated, you just never know. Whenever I thought about it in the moments leading up to it, the first time, I thought I might end up dead. But then when I actually went through it, I kept waiting for the contractions to feel more painful than putting in your contact lenses the morning after cutting up jalapeno peppers? And they never did. Although I did have an epidural, which helped immensely, despite it also being the freakiest part of the whole ordeal. Supposedly, labor and delivery for subsequent pregnancies is easier than the first time around, but I feel a healthy amount of fear is just that: healthy. And being prepared for complications, or whatever. Or even having one of the doctors you don't like being on call that day, that would suck, too.

So I've got to start reading, just to refresh. Although nothing in a book can truly prepare you for the actual experience, it does at least help to know the different phases of labor, which I have, as a defense mechanism, completely blocked out. And I have to pack, although at this point I'm running out of clothes that fit, so it seems to me that whatever I'd want to wear at the hospital, I'm going to need beforehand, right? I'm still puzzling over this one. Especially the underwear: I am totally running out of underwear that fits, and I am too cheap, too lazy, too stuck in the principle of the thing to go out and buy more.

In the meantime, it would be lovely if someone could paint my toes. And I can't wait to be able to roll all the way over, or even just side to side without feeling like the bottom half of my body is going to crumble away from the top. Oh, and the Tums, I won't miss popping those like Pez out of my giant Costco bottle all day and all night long.

All in all, I feel pretty ready for this baby to be here now, though I know in truth that it's trading in one set of problems for another. Heartburn for sleep deprivation, agility for patience and sanity, etc. A Bug who's frustrated because she can't have 12 popsicles a day versus a Bug who's frustrated because she can't have undivided parental attention all day. Hmmm. It's going to be interesting, that is the only given.