40 Weeks, 2 Days

(Spontaneous labor statistics from spacefem.com)

Not in labor yet, which at least gives me more time to have fun with statistics.

I think it was Saturday, the day before Raleigh's due date, when I really became comfortable with the idea of having a baby. So that's great! I'm kinda looking forward to having him here. I think it will be nice.

Before that, honestly, I was terrified. The entire time. Ultrasound days - you'd think they'd be happy - but really, I'd see Little Squish in there and I'd just think of all the ways I was going to accidentally mess him up and how when he grows up he might not even like me even though I just gave him 18 years of my life, and how, in the meantime, we'd have to sacrifice so much for him and he'd cry a lot and poop everywhere and destroy everything.

Like, you know how getting a new pet is a major gamble? You just became responsible for this living thing for at least the next 10 years. What if your personalities clash, or you just aren't compatible with that type of pet? What if it eats your furniture or can't be house trained? All you can do is hope that you're able to make each other happy more than you frustrate each other, and give it the best life that you possibly can. And then, at the end of those 10ish years, the pet is gone. You might be super sad and wish that the pet could live forever, but on the flip side, if the pet was terrible or a bad match, now you have been relieved.

Well, that's...kind of what it's like with a baby, I'm guessing...except there is no 10 year life span. You are creating a human who will basically have the power to destroy you not just for the next few years, but for the rest of your life. Maybe there won't be a personality clash, and maybe you'll be compatible with parenthood, but what if you don't like each other or you end up being a terrible parent?

That. Is. Terrifying. And it's all I could think about.

But then, out of nowhere, I got tentatively happier. I guess my reasons are selfish. Like that I think it will probably be pretty nice to hold our baby. I think it will be fun to watch him grow, hopefully to be a lot like Joe, because I like Joe a lot. I'm looking forward to seeing Joe as a dad - he's going to be fantastic. I'm more optimistic about our family's future now than I have been at any point since we found out that we were going to have one.

Nothing says "you're having a kid" quite like suddenly seeing a crib in your room

Also - totally unrelated - I want to see how good I am at pushing out babies. It seems there are two main views of labor: 1. The probably more logical one, as a necessary evil to get through as painlessly as possible to get to the baby, and 2. A challenging life experience to conquer. I'm taking the second view. (Or at least starting there, and then switching to the first one once the second one starts seeming really dumb.)

Childbirth will be a new and scary and extremely personal situation, and without having experienced it, I feel like I'll be better able to handle it if I maintain as much control as possible and allow as little invasion as possible. That means staying at home for most of labor. It could go quickly, but since this is my first baby, I expect it to take pretty much forever, like hours and hours and hours and hours. It really seems like I'd rather spend all that time comfortable and undisturbed instead of in an environment where there are strangers and needles and they want to put the needles in me.

I've learned about timing contractions, about when it really is time to go to the hospital, and about when it really is too early to go. I've stocked up on Gatorade and applesauce and juice. I even got this giant inflatable kiddie pool to set up in the living room because our bathtubs are tiny and water is supposed to be super helpful for labor pain management.

Won't it be funny if I end up not even using it

I may very well end up perfectly happy in a hospital bed with an epidural, watching my baby be born like it's coming out of someone else because it sure isn't hurting me, but I'm glad that I've given myself a chance to have "THE EXPERIENCE" and see if it really is worth it...or if I just need to take the logical route next time.

A Probability Jump

There are only four more days, give or take a few, before we're parents. Let's not talk about how that's really weird and I don't get it and life is still normal, exactly like the world isn't about to be turned upside down.

First thing every Sunday morning since we found out about the baby, I've checked for my two weekly emails detailing what part of development he was on, what he's doing in there. I loved finding out when he was able to hear, when he could dream, smile, or suck his thumb. And I'd get out the tape measure and show Joe about how many inches long the baby had grown. Now that there aren't really weeks left (probably,) what I'm really interested in is when I'm going to go into labor. I found this super cool chart that tells you, based on a survey of like 6,000 people, the probability that you'll spontaneously (not induced) go into labor on any given day. The probability jumped a whole percentage point today! (Source: http://spacefem.com/pregnant/charts/duedate1.php?minweek=38 )

The site also tells you the most popular days to give birth. Joe's and my guessed dates are both on the list. I'm going with 40+2 (August 5.) Joe's guess is 39+5 (August 1 - the day after tomorrow :O !) Both dates have a 4% chance of labor.

Now, in case numbers bore you, have a picture of the baby smushing out from my abdomen.

And this one, the cool thing I can do where my stomach gets pointy when I flex a certain way.

In Between

So...hi. This is awkward. It's been nine months since I've been here.

I never had much interesting to say - this blog is domestic, self-indulgent - but I still feel it's important for me to write our story. To keep it. Especially now.

Snapshot: I'm 27, Joe's 28. August 17th will be our 7th anniversary. Our marriage has been 92% fantastic. Our life is fun, secure, tranquil, comfy, routine. Like living in one of the squares of a waffle. I love it.

Last year, as my first real academic accomplishment, I was so proud to have earned a real estate sales certification. By now, I've realized that real estate is a pretty bad fit for me. Joe's on his 4th year in the Army. Seems that's another bad fit. With 22 months left on his contract, we've started to work on an exit plan.

We bought a home last year. We have a dog and a cat and two birds, some grape bushes!, two living rooms, two spare bedrooms. One of those bedrooms is full of boxes. The other bedroom was painted and curtained and made into my office. I couldn't find the perfect "resale beige" paint, so I went with what I really wanted - a perfect delicate blue-green. It turned out that the blue really was perfect...turned out that I was painting a nursery for the baby I'd given up on.

There are 55 days until his due date, August 3rd.

Now, we're in between. In between "us two" and "we three." Between home office and nursery. Everything we've known, and the rest of our lives.

It's summer. Outside the back windows, our yard is overgrown and green and hazy with humidity. The sun sets slowly. We play video games side-by-side like always, watch movies on the couch, cook and clean together. Everything is still so normal. But ten times a day we walk past the calendar months I printed out - April to September all taped together on the fridge - and every night I cross off another day. So many have been crossed off already.

It's been seven years of just us, of adventure and figuring stuff out. Strange to think how soon that will change. We're ready (as anyone can ever be,) but I'll always remember, always keep these last days of ours, these perfect summer in-between days.

Locked Out FOREVER

Y. E. S. !!!!! JOE INSTALLED A KEYLESS ON OUR ENTRY FRONT DOOR! WORTH EVERY PENNY!!!!!!!! It's like being in Korea again (cause that's how you get into all the apartments)! Guys, this is seriously SO luxurious.

Funny story: There is a set of keys which open the locks of the doors of foreclosure houses in our area. Someone at our local Century 21 had the key to our front door when they sold the house to us, because that's how they sell houses, by getting inside to show people, you know. When we bought our house, we didn't receive a copy of our key, because then we'd be able to get into a lot of other for sale homes in the area. So we haven't been able to unlock our front door the entire time we've lived here.

We never got around to replacing the front doorknob; we ordered an expensive keyless entry system and door handle thing that we liked, but they were both broken, and time just flew by, and the back door had a new knob that we used, so it was okay. Climbing over the fence to get into the back door a few times never hurt anybody.

Well, the other day, when I got my real estate license, I gained access to a set of keys that would open the doors of a lot of houses in the area - including my own.

I got a key to my front door because I became a real estate agent.

LOL.

Six

On August 17th, I didn't write to tell you I love you. I was washing the car. I should have been in here, typing, waiting for you to get home from work on our anniversary, but instead I was out there in the rain scrubbing something that never stays clean. But that's how it goes, isn't it? Paychecks need to be earned, things need to be fixed, I get tired of thinking "I should wash the car this weekend." Before you know it, it's been a week since we've really had time for each other.

This year, our anniversary was just a whisper and the familiar date on the calendar.* And cake, chocolate cake chocolate frosting chocolate chips brownie chunks and chocolate syrup, that good old standby from our olden days (like 4 years ago).

From the olden days.

We didn't really do anything (except cake,) but it was comfy just holding your hand and saying "happy anniversary" and not making too much of a thing of it because there was last year and there will be next year. To get to the point where anniversaries aren't as momentous, because we've already had a few. 

So if last year was complicated, this year is comfy. We're back from our Great Asia Adventure. We have our household goods and the Passat and the couch. We're buckling down and settling in for a long stretch of very normal life - two jobs, a cat and a dog, retirement plan, mortgage. I can't say I'm exactly excited about it; there's nothing exciting about working to pay off a bunch of surprise debt, and about not knowing if things are going to go the way we've planned. But whatever happens, at least I'll be with you...and really, our life always has just kept getting better. 

Here's to another year of shared memories, even if these will be more mundane than seeing the Great Wall of China or visiting volcanic islands or seeing people poop behind bushes in public parks.

I love you.

* There was also a thoroughly enjoyable dinner with my family at Golden Corral, where I got four cotton candies and we laughed together like we haven't laughed together in years, and then me and Joe got a beautiful new toilet, but as awesome as those things were and as much as I wish we could do them all the time, they were not romantic.