Of Repetition

It seems to me every day, of late, is the same.

I wake up with the realization, though not the expectation, that Baby could arrive today.  For some reason it always feels, though, if it hasn't started by then, it won't happen until evening, at which point the baby will, realistically, most likely, arrive the next day.  Perhaps this is why the expectation is not real.

I piddle through the day, delaying activities until "after the baby comes," trying to keep the kids busy and the house clean, "just in case."  I realize I don't know what we're having for dinner.  I'm out of grocery money because, frankly, I thought by now we'd be living off the food I've been hoarding in the freezer for the past month and a half.  Thus, it's a rummage in the pantry for anything we have not yet devoured and then a creative search through the recipe box in my head, and then allrecipes.com if nothing has yet come to mind.  All the while, I eye, with lust, the frozen bags of soups and chilis, casseroles and meatloaves, wishing we could just break into them because I'm so tired of cooking right now.

Sometime in the late evening, I begin to have odd feelings in my abdomen.  Not usually contractions, though those are typically sprinkled in, but just feelings that something may be happening.  Baby starts pulling it's ninja moves it must have inherited from Daddy, as though it's trying to find some alternate exit besides the one it is so clearly avoiding.

I go to bed thinking, surely these pains, this increased movement, these different feelings must mean something - something will surely be happening tonight.  But for now, I must rest - I need to save up my strength.

And then, the next morning, like a pregnant version of "Groundhog Day," I awake - realizing, I've still "got you, Babe" and my body back to feeling normal - or, at least, it's new normal, since the day the baby dropped and I feel like I'm the penguin - the awkwardly uncomfortable penguin.

So, here we are.

Another day, another contraction, and a whole lot of nothin'.

PS I shall return later with my Photo of the Day, stay posted.


PPS As promised . . . Our evening activities included this:

Stressing over baby names is also a part of the daily routine - it's more of a background theme.  Don't worry, Philip vetoed all those listed above.