Doin’ the Due

April 3, 2009 at 11:52 am 3 comments

Hello, Internet. I am due to have a baby today. But I think I’ll just put in a full day’s work and go to a movie tonight. And then maybe tomorrow I’ll cook us a nice big Saturday breakfast, read the paper, and go COMPLETELY FUCKING INSANE.

laura

So, I did a Google image search on “laughter” and came up with this crazy broad and her terrifying website where she shills a spoken word CD that would probably throw me into a blind rage in about 5 minutes flat. The day is looking up.


Anyway, Laughing Laura and her hat that makes it look like a chicken is shitting out her head aside, I am trying really really hard not to be frustrated today about my lack of dilation/labor/baby. After all, this is the new-and-improved due date. For most of my pregnancy the Big Day was April 5th, so perhaps Spats is operating on the original schedule. At any rate, today is going to be an exercise in restraining myself from tweaking my nipples in my cubicle.

cubicle2Or I suppose I could ask a friendly coworker to help me out with that.

(Oh, and nipple stimulation is one of the things [LIES!] that is supposed to induce labor. Good luck trying to un-remember that little bit of trivia.)

After two nights of increasingly restless, contraction-filled sleep, I slept like a fucking baby (ha) last night. BECAUSE OF COURSE I DID. Because my pregnancy now seems to be progressing in reverse. Do I have fucking Benjamin Button in there? What the hell?

I guess I should be happy that I still feel relatively good, and I am. I mean, this baby is LOW and that makes for some interesting bladder sensations when I stand up and/or walk, but besides that I feel pretty decent. Since she’s moved down, the reflux has decreased and I can take a deep breath without feeling like my lungs are the size of chickpeas. I feel so good, in fact, that tonight we are indeed headed to the movies. Someone asked me if it made me nervous – the prospect of being in a crowded theatre and going into labor. And you know, at one point I’m sure that would’ve stressed me out, but now?

goobersI am officially at the stage of pregnancy where covering a stranger’s Goobers with amniotic fluid is a good thing.

I fully intend to keep you updated, dear Internet, should something happen over the weekend. Just remember that no blogging or Tweeting from me means NOTHING IS HAPPENING, and I am far too busy taking naps and melting cheese on things to turn on the computer.

But let me just say THANK YOU to everyone who has been reading/commenting/following the story of me and The Little Cervix That Could But Chooses Not To Right Now, Thanks. It has been immensely helpful to blog and Tweet through these last several days of The Crazy, and it has made it easy for me to stay in good spirits.

laura

Note: My spirits will never be THIS good. Unless I am supplementing with THESE spirits:

makersmark1

Soon, old friend. SOON.

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Entry filed under: Gobble-gobble.

I’m Not Coming Out; You Can’t Make Me And It Doesn’t Even Rhyme

3 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Sara  |  April 3, 2009 at 12:23 pm

    What the fuck?! That woman scares me. You just had to put her in there twice, didn’t you? Is she supposedly a comedian or something? Because I’m guessing she’s not at all funny. And why does she have a chicken on her head? Does she tell jokes like “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Because guess what, lady? Those jokes are NOT FUNNY. (She’s making me angry for no good reason. Clearly, I need some of that Maker’s Mark, stat!)

    Reply
  • 2. MLE  |  April 3, 2009 at 12:45 pm

    Mmmm…bourbon…

    I will be thinking good thoughts about you today and through the weekend. Thanks for the nice compliments on my most recent post, though when I showed Dan the Offending Photo he kind of recoiled in horror as well.

    There are many people I’ve met who if their heads were shat out by chickens would have explained a lot.

    Reply
  • 3. kristin  |  April 3, 2009 at 1:06 pm

    Except the Twitter feed keeps going down inexplicably (at least for me), leaving me to wonder, “Is there a tweet on there from J.T. talking about the baby’s head crowning (EEEEK) and I just CAN’T SEE IT? FUCK.”

    So you’d better give your password to Brad and make him post for you on your site. You hear that, Brad? We’re all counting on you, man.

    Fingers crossed for you that she makes her grand entrance this weekend.

    Reply

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