37 Weeks

Two things happened today. Thing one is that Baby H reached “full-term” status, meaning that if he chose to be born NOW, no one would stop him. Because he is officially eligible for release into the world. According to SCIENCE. Of course, we all still want him to stay in as long as he wants/needs, because such things are so individual and we don’t even know him yet, so how could we possibly judge his readiness? Totally up to him, I say. (And I do mean that -- I am not yet in the get-this-baby-out-of-me phase that I have heard so much about.)

Thing two that happened today is that I developed a case of a terrible tummy. It came on in the middle of the night and I was so sad and nauseated that I sat shaking for a bit on the floor of the bathroom. The good news was that we recently bought a plush new bathmat. So my accommodations weren’t so bad. But oh did I ever feel sorry for myself. When morning came, and I announced the news of my terrible tummy to my baby’s daddy, he said, “Isn’t that one of the possible early signs of labor? Flu-like symptoms without fever, including nausea?” Because you see, my baby’s daddy has taken a class or two and is now a professional at diagnosing such things. And, of course, he is also right.

This, in turn, leads me to two thoughts: Yay, a baby! But also: I can’t have a baby this week! I have way too much to do, and my boss would never forgive me for dumping my current workload on him. So, it’s decided. No baby this week. Maybe next week, preferably after I get my hair cut.

The produce report this week is incredibly lame. Baby H is as long as a stalk of swiss chard. Yeah, I know.

Meanwhile, I am either HUGE or way-too-tiny-how-could-you-possibly-be-having-a-baby-in-three-weeks-? depending on whom you ask. Not that I ask any of them. People like to share. My baby’s daddy, meanwhile, thinks that Baby H has dropped. I was thinking the same thing, so when Dr. Halekas confirmed it, I figured we must be on to something. Peer-reviewed findings and all (that’s science!) And no, I do not call him Dr. Halekas. Very often. I mean, really, very rarely.

Please excuse the terrible-tummy-day face:

Baby H was the guest of honor at another baby shower this week, this time at my office. It was delightfully decorated, boasted more than enough gluten-free goodies for me to hurt myself, and exhibited a startling level of generosity. We are so darn spoiled, let me tell you. Also this week, our neighbors (whom we really barely know at all and only ever chat with over the fence, and even that only maybe once a quarter at the very most) popped over to congratulate us and wish as well. They brought us a bottle of wine and a terribly generous gift card, then followed up with the offer of all manner of hand-me-down baby gear. And they couldn’t have even known that hand-me-down baby gear is my favorite! So we scored a Baby Bjorn and a high chair. Seriously, if you are feeling in need of attention from the world at large, I cannot recommend pregnancy highly enough. (I mean, don’t do that -- terrible reason to get pregnant!)

Bonus pictures today! Reese and Puppet, helping to break in one of the new carpets we got to make our floors more baby-friendly:

Number of people who have touched the belly: 23 (two new ones this week!)
Number of baby-wearing apparatus in our collection: 3

Thousands of dollars spent this week on the removal of one giant leaning tree that hung threateningly over Baby Halekas’s yard: 3
Number of rugs added to our decor this week when we realized how very hard our wood and granite floors would be for tummy time: 2

Number of actual contractions I believe myself to have experienced this week: 4
Number of baby-related training classes we have completed: 6
Number of baby-related training classes still on the agenda: zero!

Number of costume ideas we have for making the most of my gigantically pregnant situation: 2
Number of actual costumes that are ready for wearing tomorrow: zero! (the grossness has really derailed my plans for the day...)

Number of bags that are packed for the hospital: 0 (okay, might be time to go ahead and get on that)
Number of weeks until my maternity leave starts: 1
Number of proposals/reports I need to submit prior to starting maternity leave: 3
Number of times I have started to fill out my forms so that I can collect my maternity benefits, only to have the state of California crash the site mid-way through: 2 (and isn’t this a clever way for the state to try save money?)

Swiss chard: Baby Center