Yesterday marked 39 weeks... so any day, and counting. It is a strange state of purgatory. Am I ready yet? Are we ready? Ah yes, that small technicality of packing that bag for the hospital. Well, it is half done. I will finish doing that today because I am really feeling like I am tempting fate by not having it packed and ready to go.
I still feel good, I had wild and crazy dreams last night, and my new kitchen floor is going in! I just realized I could almost include Ken in the title of Super Dads, but my guys are putting it in, and I can't wait to see the peel and stick lino tiles replaced by laminate! So I am trying not to hang around the kitchen for a few reasons. It is hard not to help out, and face it, not the time to be making any kind of comments. So I am making myself scarce.
Cookie dough. This is a definite weakness for me. Now that I have more time off, I am rediscovering the joys of baking. At least when I make cookies I prefer the dough and then immediately try to pawn the cookies off on my dad and Ken.
So this whole birth experience is a bit of a crapshoot. Although there are some parts which are pretty routine, it happens on its own path, in its own time. It is strange to be out of control in this way, hoping that everything happens "naturally" rather than facing medical interventions. It could be any time, that is the real kicker. Hell, it could even be today, although waking up, today didn't really feel like "the day".