Until now, I've been living in a strange time warp where the days and weeks were passing so slowly, but also at the speed of light. Now, time seems to be standing still. I'm not complaining, too much. I am trying to remind myself to be patient because there are moments when the anticipation is killing me. But, I'm also enjoying these last few weeks when it's just me and Dave, and while I don't have to share this baby with anyone.
I am such a selfish person. At times I dread giving birth because once she's here the world will swoop down on me ready to hold and love and care for her. Not that that is a bad thing - they've all been eagerly anticipating her arrival, just as I have. I'm so happy that there are so many people ready to accept her into their lives so wholly. Dave and I are blessed with a huge and wonderful family. While I can't wait to share the joy of her with all of them, I also want to keep her all to myself for a little longer. I feel like a little kid at Christmas who doesn't want to share her new toys yet. Is that horrible?
Oh well, at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that since I'll be breastfeeding I will be the only one feeding her for at least the first month or so. : )
An update from my 36 week appointment - we are still doing great. The baby looked great on the non-stress test and my blood pressure was normal. I had one giant contraction while hooked up to the monitors, and several small ones that I didn't feel. I have not dilated anymore since last week, and my doctor confirmed my suspicision that the 1 cm the other doctor told me was a little generous. : ) He doesn't seem to think we'll be having a baby this week.
For your amusement: Picture me, nine months pregnant, in a t-shirt and panties, in the tub with the dog. That was a scene from our house this week. Said dog had been sick in her kennel that day (finding that mess is a story not worth retelling), and was due for a bath. She only gets a bath about twice a year because her fur is pretty much self-cleaning. Labs are made that way. As a water dog, one would expect her to like having a bath. Not so. She HATES it. She loves the pool, the creek, the lake, and playing in the rain - she'll even get into the shower with me on occasion, but put her in the tub for the purpose of bathing her and she has a different attitude entirely. Case in point, on this particular day, after cleaning up the mess, we spent two hours outside waiting on the subsequent vomit incidents that always happen on the carpet (not this day!). She played in her pool (to rinse off most of the nastiness) and played ball in the pouring rain. When I finally brought her inside, she was soaking wet. When Dave put her in the tub for me - because she doesn't go willingly and I can't lift a 70 lb. dog right now - she acted like I was about to beat her with a stick. In order to bathe the beast, one must straddle her and hold her in the tub with ones thighs while scrubbing one half. Once that half is finished, one turns around and scrubs the other half. One must do this quickly because her patience with the process doesn't last long, and when the 70 lb dog decides she is finished with her bath, there isn't much a 9-months-pregnant woman can do about it. Luckily, she was mostly rinsed when she vacated the tub, leaving me standing in two inches of muddy water and dog hair while she dried herself (i.e. shook clean water and dog hair all over the bathroom). Usually, the drying process starts in the tub with the shower curtain closed when I give her the command Dry Yourself, but this day I was not fast enough. At any rate, we have a clean dog. She only pouted for about half an hour, then decided she wasn't mad at me anymore after leaving her wet imprint on my side of the bed.
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