Moved And Waiting

We're moved. And ready. And waiting.

Don't ask if we're settled. Everyone asks that question and I've come to the creative conclusion to just say, "no."

But, we're ready and waiting for the baby.

The combination of a busy move, frantic unpacking, semi-settling and then a bout of the flu, made this pregnancy jump ahead a couple weeks. They tell me I'm only 35 weeks but the labor activity I have on a daily basis puts me right about at 40 weeks. It could be anytime.

So, I guess if I don't have the baby real soon, he'll be considered over due then... or, maybe not...?? I'm confused too. It's just a strange feeling to compare a 35 week pregnancy with past 35 week pregnancies and come up way off.

The good news is we are moved into the "new" house and the old house is ready to sell and boasts a cheery for sale sign in the front yard. That was a huge hurdle to get over but we made it -- flu, contractions and all.

As for the settling part, we're getting there. Not only do we have to settle this house down but we also had to work on getting the baby's stuff ready.

Britt and I are quite the team: nothing can be missed by our blonde (me) and blondless (her) brains. (notice I said brains, not hair.) But tragically, the imminent birth of the most recent child was daily being left very unprepared for. The diaper bag was unpacked, the clothes were unwashed and the blankets were unfound. Our brains had just not quite registered the importance of setting other daily tasks aside and focusing on this all important occasion.

The quote of the day was heard at my latest midwife's appointment. Bear in mind that I am very ready to have this baby so you can understand that her kind words were like the healing balms of Gilead on my worn and weary spirit and body.

The dear, kind woman said, (and I quote) "if labor starts now, we won't stop it."

I just chuckled and said, "good, because I won't let you."

But then I realized that not even though I felt ready to have this baby in body and spirit, domestically he would be hideously lacking in many vital necessities. I know they say it doesn't take much to take care of a baby (not to put down the typical American lifestyle of 'see it, gotta have it') but he does need necessities like diapers and blankets at least, not to mention a few socks. I really don't care about the wipes and bottle warmers, just get a few blankets washed, please.

This morning, the first words out of my husband's mouth weren't "good morning honey." Rather, he shared what must've been pressing on his mind all night.

"So Honey, are you all ready for the baby?"

I could tell he expected the answer to be, "Oh, of course dear." But I had to tell the truth.

"Nope. Not a thing done," I confess boldly to him.

Confused, he didn't know how to respond. I heard a long drawn out, "Soooooo.... you at least have the diaper bag packed, right?"

"Not even the diaper bag, Hun." Another brave confession.

"Not even your bag then?" he asks me, obviously catching on that nothing is done.

"Nope, don't even know where the luggage is," I bear my soul.

"Well, don't you think you should get that done first?" Now he's thinking!

Today set a new milestone: the baby's stuff is ready. But, that's only due to the thoughtfulness of the baby's kind aunt. Between trips to the park and hauling arm loads of boxes, my sister set to work getting the clothes ready while I nursed a flu ravaged body back to full health -- whatever that is. Being 9 months pregnant makes it hard to feel anywhere close to "full health" but at least the flu isn't quite as bad as it was.

And now we wait. The changing table is ready. The diaper bag is packed. My bag is almost packed. The blankets are washed.

But, this couldn't have all been done except by some very well meaning and affectionate dear ones -- including both the baby's father and the baby's aunt. A little motivation helps this pregnant diva to really get in gear... once in a while anyway.

As I struggled to merely get in bed last night while juggling all 5 of the necessary pillows around our bed and huffing as I positioned the king size pillow between my knees and stopping every couple minutes to let a contraction go by, my strong husband casually looks over the top of the book he was reading on his side of the bed and in sublime comfort and ease as he lays on his back on ONE pillow, calmly asks me if the next 4 weeks will be like this. I think he was concerned I was turning into an asthmatic or something, with all my breathless breathing and puffing.

Between my huffs and puffs and sighs, I assure him, "Babe, there won't be another 4 weeks of this."

At least, there better not be. The blankets are ready, the pillows are getting to be a hassle and I'm ready to sleep on my back again. And contractions don't keep babies in for very long.