Today is the day. September 29th was the date I tacked up on my "vision board" beneath the picture of a cute, cuddly, healthy baby so many months ago. It was my goal for carrying this pregnancy to term after experiencing premature labor with my last two pregnancies. So it looks like I have been successful, and now she can come on anytime. This probably means she will hang out for another 4 weeks just so I don't get any false notions that I have control over anything.
For the last few nights I have dreamed that I have had the baby. In my dreams I still don't know what her name is or how the delivery is carried out. It always seems to happen rather effortlessly (which is how I know it is just a dream). This morning I dreamed that I gave birth and forgot to call my mother. Horror of horrors! We had called all of George's immediate family, but when I arrived home from the hospital with little what's-her-name, I realized that no one had called my mom. I remember telling George, "We are going to have to lie about her birthday for the rest of her life because I am going to call my mom and tell her she was born today!" (Don't worry, Mom. This would never really happen!) When I woke up it all seemed so real; I was wracking my brain trying to remember the delivery... Did I end up with a c-section or a natural delivery? I actually put my hand down to feel for a scar and discovered that I was indeed still pregnant. Ho-hum.
I should have some more information in a week when I go back to the hospital for a scan to confirm the position of the baby. I can tell you that I am 99% sure that her feet are still down low and her head is pressed up firmly into my ribs. She is still very wiggly, but I am not convinced she has any intention of going bottoms up. Time will tell.
This morning we all were up early since Emma had Judo class before school. George and Sophie were in the bathroom together before he left for work. He was shaving and she was brushing her teeth while the two enjoyed a typically cheerful, early morning chat. (Both are chipper morning people if they've had enough rest, and I say they can have at it.) I had to laugh when I overheard Sophie asking him, "Aren't you excited, Dad?! You're going to be a parent soon!"
To further increase the gaiety of the morning, Sophie spontaneously learned to whistle last night and spent the morning practicing her new party trick all over the house. She absolutely could not wait to get to school so she could show Harry Lynch how well she could do it. (Quick update: the happy couple have now reconciled and are the class "love birds" again as of yesterday. "Harry and I did EVERYTHING together yesterday!" reported Sophie this morning.)
Emma and I are not morning people. I'm not even sure I am any kind of a person at the moment, but I was especially not a morning person when, after getting everyone up an hour early, showering and getting dressed, Emma came in to my room and said, "Oh, I forgot. I don't have Judo today. The teacher told me last week that I should start coming on Thursday morning instead." I didn't roar as loudly as you might imagine, but I was rather annoyed remembering how tired I had been when hauling my super-sized self out of bed a half an hour earlier. "It didn't occur to you to tell me this last night, when we were packing your Judo bag???" No, of course, it didn't.
Mommy Dearest made her go to Judo anyway this morning (even though none of the other Year 3 girls were there). Will she ever recover from my cruelty? And furthermore what's up with the Judo instructor not sending home a note about the change in class day anyway? Did he seriously expect that 7- year-olds would remember this information at the end of the school day and tell their parents?
Apparently all of the other 7-year-olds DID remember to tell their parents, so Emma was the oldest girl in class today. These are the experiences that build character... or perhaps they at least encourage a child to tell her mom important things before the last minute. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
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