Last pic and post til due date!

I'll be out of the office, and away from speedy internet, until the 3rd. Which also happens to be my due date. Hopefully I WON'T be posting a picture then. Or posting at all! But only time will tell!

Nothing yet.

A week to go. As if my due date means anything. As if I don't plan on ripping my skin off before then.

Hello, Pineapple.

Even though you hurt my tummy, I am eating you for the deliciousness and for the old wive's tale about you and labor starting. Even though I know baby will be born on Monday due to my highly scientific "the number of cars I pass going the other way on Haselton Road between Black Brook and the Methodist Church equals the number of days from now baby will be born" method of prediction.

Listen, if the also scientific "if I see three horses and a white dog on my way home, I am pregnant" works, this must too! And what about "the gender of the person driving the next red car I see is the gender of my baby" test? Also scientifically proven.

If you are pregnant, and think you are peeing yourself, you probably are. That is the lesson I learned first thing this morning. Needless to say, I felt like a fool on the Ob's table.

Got vistaril for my PUPPs rash. KNOCKED ME OUT.

Any question on whether or not I have dropped are answered by comparing the frfont view from today to that of last Thursday! Looks like someone moved my belly button south for winter!

The Scoop on Poop or How I Came Full Circle

Nine months ago I was in depths of what TTCers call the 2WW...you know, the time between when you get EWCM and O and when you get AF or your BFP! (it also makes you use a lot of abbreviations...) During the two week wait, thousands of women spend their days analyzing every temperature shift, change in cervical mucus, feeling of naseau and exhaustion....Now that I am two weeks from my due date (EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!) I am back to hyper-over-uber-analytic mode. This time, I am focused on my poops. Gross, I know, but after nine months of not being able to go, to go SEVEN TIMES in 24 hours seems significant.

Of course, I watch the other moms to be at Fertility Friend do the same with their dilation and effacement numbers, or the state of their mucus plugs. BMs are just the straws at which I have chosen to grasp. I really, really want to get this baby out now, oh mighty blogosphere. My rash hurts and itches and I could do with the assurance that my current insurance will cover delivery without the $250 copay that comes into play after the new year and with the ability to have Eva insured for the first few days of her life before we have to wait til Feb 1st for her insurance to kick in and I would also like a tax credit to offset the costs incurred in that month and I want my body back and I want to hold my baby and I want to see my Billy be a Daddy and I want to see my mom be a grandma and to see that grandma look on her face for the first time. (And the Grampie look from my Dad too, I am sure he'll want to count fingers and toes even if he won't be carrying her to the nursery like he did me) (and the GREAT Grandma look from my Grandma. Wow.)

So this is why I am filled with glee everytime I proudly strut to the bathroom to take a pooh. It's gross, but it's my straw, and I ain't letting it go until I am writhing in pain from contractions and swearing at Billy.

We got a $10 Christmas tree yesterday...and it's even better than the $15 tree we got last year!As I decorated it I thought that it will be great that the moms will be able to see it. And then it dawned on me that if I go late, they won't be seeing it! So bothersome.

I'm working on the walking, and waddled my way to my mechanic's to pick up my car with its once again working washer fluid pump and new oil. The other ways on encouraging labor have fallen by the wayside (other than spicy food, I made a venison chili to DIE FOR this weekend...), only to be replaced by crying and screaming. Poor Bill. This morning I stood in the doorway and started bawling..."I DON'T WANT TO GO TO WORK!" Blubber., blubber, blubber. This was better than my screaming and crying about the guy we know that was so illogical about the placement of his new house and solar panels.

Off to google "Labor signs" and see if I can't find "emotional outbursts" among them! Also bread baking.

Sheesh.

She may not look bigger, but she is definitely just about out of room in there!

I asked the midwife when the baby is coming out. Well, it was worth a try! Of course she doesn't know, but I hate to hear that it could be a month longer. They never say "today!" Bitches, Man, all of 'em.

I also asked why these new stretchmarks hurt so damn much. Could be that they are trying to turn into PUPPS (evil pregnancy rash)...so I got a script for some cream to put on them. No improvement yet, but it has only been ten minutes.

A new reason why I want baby out: it's too cold in the morning and I hate trying to start my car at negative temps. She doesn't like to start, and it makes me so nervous. Once baby arrives I will have no reason to go anywhere at the crack of damn dawn (okay, 7:30am) Until MARCH...which is close to the end of winter.

Finally, last night Eva's daddy had the night off and we spent it on the couch, counting his POUNDS of nickels and dimes and listening to the Sirius. When Bill got bored of counting, he proposed he read a book to his little girl. Of course, he insisted on editing "The Poky Little Puppy" to include one or two choice words, but his daughter liked it, so who am I to complain?

It's the not knowing that I hate. On my Fertility Friend Preggo Board, tons of women due after me have been getting progress reports from their providers as they get closer. How many centimeters dilated, what precentage effaced, what stage the baby is at in the pelvis...I don't know this! And every time someone says I am going to go late I believe them more and more. I'm not sure if the midwives will do internal exams now...I have a feeling they don't, because all the progress reports really mean nothing...you can stay 3 cm dilated for WEEKS.

In the meantime...LOOK AWAY DAD!....my boobs are huge. I was having awful leakage troubles until I started wearing a bra with a nursing pad in it to bed...now nothing happens. Maybe it's that little bit of constriction?

We are now "experts" in childbirth, and have the cerificate to prove it!

We spent the weekend learning about the stages of labor, breathing techniques and pain management. From our classmates, we learned that pregnant cows get oxytocin, that my ass is totally SMALL for a pregnant woman, that fart noises make people of a wide range of noises laugh, and that women generally have a hard time telling how much something weighs by lifting and holding it.

We also learned that we are both really excited for the whole process, that I don't want any drugs, that Bill wants to watch the whole thing - unless it involves me getting shots and then he might puke, that I REALLY need a bathroom with a tub, that we are a better team than I could have imagined, and that we are ready for her to be born yesterday.

So all of that considered, we will be working on those old fashioned home induction tricks ASAP. You know, spicy food, sex and nipple stimulation.

This morning I convinced myself I was going into labor. Because I have NEVER had gas before. Something to remember tomorrow morning after I polish off the rest of that split pea soup tonight! I do think she's dropping as I could have eaten TWICE the sandwich I had for lunch.

We have our childbirth class tomorrow!

I got to see my pal S. today and we compared bellies...note to self: big red sweater makes you look fat, not preggo. (see picture!) She's doing great after a pre-term labor scare and is off bedrest.

It's been a stressful week. I thought we had the insurance figured out and then we didn't. And now we think we do again. What a headache.

Finally! Weekly appointments! And I only gained three pounds in the last 2 weeks, which included Thanksgiving!

In other news, there is no sleep for me. Bill's now working nights which I thought might improve my slumber. But no. Last night I tossed and turned (slowly and painfully) for an hour before heading to the living room to drink tea and cuddle on the couch with the dog. (Cuddle he did, wedging his body between me and the back rest.) Even with 100+ channels there's nothing on between four and six. I finally got sleepy and headed back to bed and overslept. Headache ALL DAY!

We have a pediatrician.
We have a day care provider.
We have a plan for insurance.
We have a place for baby to sleep.
We have a plan to contact Bill at work in the middle of the night.
We have Sirius Satellite Radio. (Which has nothing to do with baby at all.)

Can we have a baby now? Or do I have to install the car seats, too?

The not installing seats is a ploy to make her come a little early. We will need something to panic about at the last minute and/or something to make Bill really angry and confused while I rest in the hospital.

Also, not having bags packed for us is a similar ploy, but I am almost over that one, now that I have a list made.

I am now on the first day of my 37th week. Can you believe it? She's officially due four weeks from today. Which means that two weeks from today she's not really early. Of course that also means that six weeks from today she's not really late, either. Cripes.

My how I have grown in three weeks!