So she’s coming on the 1st, if she doesn’t come by then. We wanted to pick the 30th coz my doc would be around all day and night but they’ve already reached the limit of induction appointments (3 for a 9 OB/GYN team) for that date. And he isn’t even around on 2nd (someone in his team would deliver the baby if he weren’t around but he is real nice and sweet and I didn’t like the other doc I met briefly during my hospital stay) and I don’t want to wait past due date. The doc himself says no good comes of it (although until 41 week, it would still be ‘elective’ for the record). So the first it is. Or earlier.
- I still feel way more excited than scared about what’s up. I guess you’d feel more scared the second time round, having been there done that. Right now I’m flaunting my high-pain-index-tolerant (based of course on reliable and in-the-same-league-as-labor experiences like waxing, threading and getting tattooed) and supremely confident self at everyone who asks if I’m scared.
- I’ve been sleeping fine, eating fine, not waking up every other to pee. In fact I have none of the symptoms they warn you about. Touchwood. Either the preterm drama was all she had up her sleeve or (more likely) she is saving the rest for after she’s here. It’d be nice though if she made up for scaring us back then by being a nice easy teenager or something.
- I’m not frustrated of the wait either – although the Dr thinks I will soon be. And that’s prolly coz we still have a lot of stuff on the checklist before we declare ourselves ready – granted one is never truly ready. Gotto assemble the crib, get a changing table, wash her stuff (Vin insists that anything that’s gonna touch her has to be pre-washed. So his poor daughter is fated to wear old-looking-new-stuff from the beginning). , get a decal for the nursery, assemble the car seat, get a big enough bed for the 3 of us to fit in without Vin being mortified of throwing a limb on her etc etc..
- The other reason I want her to stay put for another week perhaps is so all the chicken-poxy marks I got from attempting to wax my face (never never ever do that, stick to bleach or whatever else or leave the peach-fuzz on) fades by the time my daughter meets me. Yes, way to go for being the not-vain mom and trying to raise the not-vain daughter. Good start!
- The Dr suggested picking a date for induction of labor if I go past 40 (even 39 if I so wish) and while we don’t have a date yet it does give me the kicks that we’re even having the conversation. Who would have thought. I’d rather nature took its course though, we shall see.
- What is with all the celebrity pregnancies suddenly. I say they’re taking the light away from us regular joe moms, Aiswarya Rai with her famous no-epidural not-too-posh-to-push labor story and Kate with her 1 million dollar push prize? A push prize for heaven’s sake! (Vin, take a hint).
I’m reading Cinderella Ate My Daughter. And while the fact that I picked it up says something of the kind of mother I hope to be, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m plenty guilty of giving in to the girlie-girl culture.
We’re trying though – Vin and I – to not be pink all the way. Picking neutral colors for her clothes and nursery where we can. It doesn’t help that pretty much everything that’s made for girls is pink these days (and who am I kidding, often prettier than the gender neutral greens and browns) and sometimes there’s really only blue and pink to pick from. I sometimes feel the whole gender and color branding is harder on boys though – remember the mom who painted her son’s toenails pink? I bet no mother was similarly stigmatized so much for her daughter turning a tomboy.
Then again, I’ve said myself right on this blog that I’d like her to have a positive body image and no doubt that would help if she weren’t you know..predisposed to being fat or skinny or whatever else she’s likely to be teased about in high school.
Finally, I guess I’m not saying much except to say I’m confused. It does help that the author is honest about her own conflicts of a similar kind, although I’m part hoping she leaves me with a magic solution that I can use to navigate this maze..
2 more days and the baby loses the premie tag, despite not having gained a name to keep.
What needs a (new) name as well is the blog. Now that she aint a tadpole no more (like oru bahumanappetta reader suggested) and this blog aspires to be more generic than baby (someday).
Blogging has taken a backseat coz I’ve apparently become super-good at whiling away my time doing nothing. And now that I’m officially off bedrest (since last week – 35) there is a whole lot of nothing to go around. Hence the update-style post
– No resolution still on the name. Didn’t help that another friend who had a baby around now picked Vin’s favorite name (and the one I like most on his list). Not that that’ll stop us if both of us like it.
– We’ve had our first snow and it looks like the baby whenever it comes is coming into winter weather
– I had 2 surprise baby showers. And since I wasn’t involved in the planning of either, the surprise part was executed very well indeed and I had no clue until the lastest minute. Of course once I knew and once the cameras were out I insisted that I change out of my pajamas into something that’d look good on facebook :). Also got a couple of gifts. Pics below.
PS: Tell me does the thingy in my right hand remind you of a certain something or is it just fully pregnant, sex-deprived (although, if you must know that is the last of the doc’s restrictions and it comes off this Friday – 36) me?
– Now that the mafia is letting down guard and doing it big time I feel majorly ignored and un-pampered if there were such a thing.