How is it possible that today is September 21? And that the last time I posted was September 9th? If this was a job I'd be FIRED by now. Good thing I'm the boss and I play favorites. Shameless!
So, nothing new to report. I'm inching closer to my due date with nothing to show for it other than my HUGE belly, which causes a commotion so great every time we go out in public that my mild-mannered mother has started growling at strangers. Seriously. I can't walk out in public without having every third person (male or female, young or old) try to engage me in conversation. Add to that the fact that I have two other children, and that I can't walk anymore -- what I do is waddle, in the strictest sense of the word, waddle, and I'm not exaggerating for once, it's the God Honest Truth -- and well, any errand takes me three times as long as it normally would, which I guess is great preparation for the third child, but which is also is getting old fast.
The only semi-interesting thing to happen is that we had a false alarm yesterday -- I thought my water had broken, but I wasn't sure -- and I was having contractions, and they weren't all that bad, but I called the Dr. just in case, and they sent me to the hospital, just in case. Everything went so smoothly and everyone was so cheerful (and let's face it, I'm so READY) that I was just hoping that it would be the day. It was so dreamy, in fact, that the nurse and doctor who was on duty (a man who I'd never seen before in my life) both said that they hoped today would be the day because we seemed like such nice a nice couple.
(In hindsight, it CLEARLY wasn't time -- who is pleasant when giving birth? But it would have been nice.)
Anyways, I'll spare you the details, but once it was finally determined that my bag of waters was still intact and we were all standing around not sure what to do next, I said the only thing that came to mind:
"My water never breaks."
Which, of course, was only funny to my husband and me.
Then we went out for a late lunch at Petit Robert, where we sat outside and pretended we were in Paris. I had a Croque Madame and ice water and my husband had some pork and wine. We argued over baby names and flipped the pages of the same baby name book we've used in all three pregnancies. We came up with the most ridiculous names we could. We got to really have fun with this baby.
Not a bad way to spend a Sunday, now that I think about it.
