When are you due?

It's a hard question to answer.  We're expecting an addition into our family.  Soonish.  But not nowish.  If you believe my cycle, you might think the baby is due on October 6th.  If you believe the ultrasound, you might think September 26. And if you believe these contractions, you might think tonight.  Woah, these contractions. 

Maybe tonight.

Currently, I am either 36 weeks or 34 and a half weeks pregnant, or somewhere in between, depending on who you believe: the period tracker on my iPhone or the ultrasound tech. It makes it hard to plan things. And to explain things. People think I am being dodgy when I can't give them a simple answer, as if babies had calendars in the womb, anyway.  

If they did, though, I'm pretty sure they would have boobs on them.  But then again, maybe babies would have Anne Geddes calendars tacked up in the womb.  Or maybe that would freak them out.  "What are those people like out there? They make babies into cabbages?" Maybe if babies had access to Anne Geddes calendars it would prolong pregnancy as babies refused to enter a world in which we make them be sleeping naked grasshoppers and butterflies. 

As has been the case in the later stages of previous pregnancies, I am completely consumed with thoughts of labor.  When will it happen? Will I make it past this important work event, or past the point in which I could safely have a home birth? How will it happen? Where? When? When? When???  

But really. When? 

This time around, we're planning a home birth with a midwife.  One of the reasons I am so consumed with the thought of labor is that if I am too early, I can't deliver at home.  I'll need to go to the hospital.  Considering how much I want a homebirth this time, that is a very big threat.  And yet, the contractions that I've had for weeks continue to get stronger and demand more of my attention.  

I feel guilty for not documenting this pregnancy the way I have done with our older kids.  Here's a summary, before I forget everything, because I forget everything these days, and once you give birth, it often feels like pregnancy happened decades ago.  It's weird that you go from a stage of being completely consumed by pregnancy and thoughts of labor to practically forgetting that you were ever pregnant. (Just me? Maybe that's why I keep getting pregnant... Note to self: re-read this pregnancy journal entry if contemplating getting knocked up again)

First trimester: crippling fatigue and a coffee aversion (aversion makes it sound so Victorian. So polite.  I hated coffee's face.  Coffee smelled like straight up brewed Satan's ass. I couldn't tolerate the thought of pouring a cup of it, let alone deliberately allowing it to gain entry into my body.)  During this time, we were also shopping for a new house, renting out our condo and preparing to move. I horked often and mostly laid on the couch or in bed when not forced to be at work.  This time, I tried everything to prevent, or at a minimum, reduce morning sickness symptoms.  

Google will perkily tell you that you should try B-6 supplements! Eat nutritional yeast!  Drink ginger tea! Drink peppermint tea! Acupressure! Try those motion sickness band thingies for your wrists! Acupuncture! Crackers! Hard candy! Minty gum! Carbonated beverages! Flat Coca Cola! Protein! Put yourself into a coma and emerge somewhere in your second trimester!

It's all bullshit.  Except for the coma thing. That's legit.

The only thing that worked was week sixteen.  If you are suffering from morning sickness, I recommend trying week sixteen.  It definately worked for me.  

We found our new home, met with the home inspector, closed on the home and moved into the home, all while I was in a profound fog of morning sickness.  As of this writing, I still cannot stomach any songs from that Muppets movie where the criminal frog Constantine impersonates Kermit. The kids watched that movie and listened to that soundtrack during the apex of my morning sickness and I get queasy just hearing those songs come on Pandora today.

Second trimester: woohoo! Look at me! I'm not made of lead anymore! Coffee? Yes, please. As if you even had to *ask*.  Silly you.  Who doesn't drink coffee for god's sake? Am I even pregnant?  Go for a run? Great idea!  I am happy! And energetic!  We're having a baby! This is great! You're great! I'm great! Let's hug.

Third trimester: Oh. My. God.  Who filled my veins with lead while I slept last night? My back hurts. My tailbone hurts. I can't run. Contractions.  My vagina is hiccuping.  I think that means the baby is pretty low.  Can I finish your dinner? 

Today: So. Here we are now.  Thirty middle ish something weeks.  I have contractions all the time.  I am short of breath.  Often.  I am moody.  Usually.  I can't bend over to pick anything up, so I live in fear that something important will drop and I'll only be able to stare longingly at it.  The baby tracks across my belly and the kids watch it like a lava lamp.  I ache to sleep on my back again.  I pee every eight minutes. I want a beer.  I want to stand up without grunting.  I want to recline without feeling like I am going to faint. I want to laugh without peeing.  

I also want to meet this new person, this lively little spirit, who we will welcome with arms and hearts wide open into our lives very soon.  

Soonish. But not nowish.  

Also, for real, can I finish your dinner?