Category: maternity

Light bulb!

Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve finally figured it out. All this time I was waiting to nest, hoping I’d get everything done around the house that needs to be done: wash the dishes, wash the clothes, put away the clothes, clean out the fridge… I even made a list of stuff to do so that when the urge struck, I wouldn’t forget anything. I never once took into account that who I am is so deeply ingrained that I don’t nest like most human beings.

We talked once about how I don’t operate within the bounds of the normal spheres other people exist in. It never occurred to me, though, that it’s in my nature to think unnecessary things are absolutely necessary. I stopped for a moment today and realized that I’ve been nesting for the last two days.

These are the things I’ve accomplished:

  • Finished reading the box of comic books my friend lent me.
  • Found two pairs of socks for the hospital.
  • Grocery-shopped for pasta salad stuff.
  • Transfered the latest pictures from the camera to the computer.
    • Organized them in the Pictures folder.
    • Uploaded a few to facebook.
  • Emailed two friends.
  • Decided to get my hair cut.
  • Wrote a blog entry about nesting.
The dishes and clothes and fridge are not done, but man, I feel like a weight has been lifted. Now I’m ready for Enis Reloaded to get here. If I get a chance, I’ll tell you why he’s coming on Friday.

My New Year’s Resolution

I’m just kidding.  I don’t make resolutions unless they’re jokes.  Last year I resolved to have a baby in February.  This year I resolved to send my friend back the comic books he lent me over the summer.

When I was younger–from about junior high to my sophomore year in high school–I did this kind of end-of-the-year ritual every Dec. 31st involving lots of weird things.  Sometimes they were things I was afraid of, but usually they were just things that I wanted to get done but never had.  One year I finished my first book. (It took up the better part of two notebooks and was written entirely in pencil.)  One year I climbed to the top of the silo.  (That was 1999, I believe.)  Things like that.  Personal triumphs.

Why don’t I do that anymore?

Well, for one thing, I’ve seen and done a lot.  Anymore, the only things that scare me are some harm coming to my family and the dark.  There’s really nothing you can do for that.

Second, a personal triumph for me nowadays would be to finish washing all the dishes on the counter. As you can see, now that Oak is walking, my Time Pie-Chart is divided much differently than it used to be.  I never spent much time before doing housework, but with all the time I spend now searching the house for my water bottle (which Oak for some reason likes better than Joshua’s water bottle), stopping Oak from eating cat food, and doing vague internet research to fuel my stories, there just aren’t enough degrees left in the circle.

Also, chronologically and as far as writing is concerned, I’ve grown up a lot since I finished that first book.  I realize now that you can’t finish a piece in a certain amount of time, you have to finish it in its own time.  If you try to rush something to meet a deadline, more often than not you’ll end up with junk.  If you let it get done when it gets done, you’ll probably have a masterpiece on your hands.

Lastly, in my old age, I’ve developed a deep and passionate hatred of the cold.  I don’t want to go outside in winter.  I don’t even want to live in a place that has winter.  So doing outside things on December 31st is out. I don’t think I even stayed up until midnight this past New Year’s Eve.

Guess Again

I’ve been thrown for another loop today after my most recent appointment with the baby doctor.  No, nothing’s wrong with Enis.  This, I think, is a bigger loop.  Today my baby doctor told me that if I don’t go into labor on my own by next weekend (one weekend before my due date), they are going to induce me.

Don’t get impatient.  Wait for the loop.  It’s coming.
Loop: They’ll induce me because Enis is on the edge of being too small.
Common sense might tell you that the wisest course of action when a baby is smaller than it should be for its gestational age is to let it bake a few more weeks.  That’s what common sense told me, anyway.  But in fact, this is risky because small babies have a higher rate of unexplained fetal death in the last few weeks of full-term pregnancies (stillbirth).
This, as you can imagine, puts a lot of pressure on me.  All along I’ve been certain that I’m going to have the baby on my super-birthday (the 19th) only to find out that that is no longer an option.  Now I not only have to re-guess and re-plan for another date, but also, try to go into labor on that date so I’ll be right.
So I’ve decided the 12th is the day.  That may mean I’ll have to go into labor on the night of the 11th, but that’s a night and number I’m willing to risk.