Whelping

Working with all sorts of comedians/veterinary folks I get asked a lot if I've calved, foaled, farrowed, or whelped yet. Nope still just gestating away over here. But, yes, if I need a c-section you'll be the first doctor I'll call. :)

When the human doctor said last week at my 37-week appointment that I was progressing (I'll spare you the details) and "It could be any day now..." I was floored.

"Excuse me?!" Like any day NOW?!!  

We've got to finish knitting the baby blanket! We better install the car seat. I've got a lot of work to finish up before maternity leave! And we should probably decide on something more to write on this child's birth certificate than "Zy Charles."

Apparently, however, "any day now" does not automatically translate to "soon." From a quick google search I found that one can walk around with a baby about to fall out of them for many weeks. Which was confirmed at today's appointment when not much has really changed. He's pretty cozy, so we'll just let him let us know when he's ready.

In the meantime, it's about time I get mentally prepared for this monumental change.

Yeah, I'm getting lots of sleep now, not that I can really store that up for later, but everyone keeps telling me to rest, and no one has to ask me twice to take a nap.

It's not the arrival of the little guy I'm hesitant for, it's something about all the sudden not being pregnant anymore. No, don't hate me, I'm not one of those glowing moms who feels incredible, but it's taken me nine months to get to this girth, and then overnight it's not gonna be nearly so cute anymore. 

I've gotten kinda used to my heftiness.

Long before pregnancy, Jon and I fell in love with these scenes from Madagascar 2.

And I'm not sure I'm going to appreciate it if he continues to affectionately call me the plumpinest.

So, I'm gonna miss my roundness, the easy unspoken excuse for grumpiness, laziness, or discomfort, but most of all I think I'll miss the instant bond with other women. I've never been terribly approachable, I imagine this is why people don't come up to me in the grocery store and pat my belly as evidently happens to most others. But with a bulging mid-section, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE has a birth story to share. Now, I don't really need to know how many stitches Julie from the gas station had, but it is nice to have folks be so friendly all the time. I've got a new friendship with Alicia from the Dollar Tree, Becky at Kroger, and the receptionist at Angie's school. I have an automatic ice breaker at social gatherings and work events. Small talk is no longer the trivial yammering about the weather it used to be, intimacy now goes straight to a whole 'nother level that is inappropriate to talk about in almost all life situations, except this strangely vulnerable one. You guys know I like vulnerable, so this is kinda fun.

So ladies, and gentlemen ('cause just because you haven't given birth doesn't mean you haven't shared a labor and delivery nightmare with me), I'll have this baby and even let you hold him, as long as you promise we don't have to go back to struggling for conversation starters like "So, do you think the Groundhog was right?" Let's  go deep with each other and keep talking about stuff that matters. I guess after random birth stories for pregnant women, comes unsolicited parenting advice for new moms, maybe I'l just keep gestating a little while longer...