Last night I started having some more painful contractions. They were irregular, but more painful than Braxton Hicks contractions. I blame myself, since I have been doing pelvic exercises on a birth ball and chasing evening primrose oil with red raspberry tea, laced with black cohosh. Josh was his usual disinterested self at first, but as I started making more, "Ow ow ow ow" sounds, he became slightly concerned and asked if we needed to go to the hospital.
I think that was the exact moment that it finally sank it that I was GOING TO HAVE A BABY. Not someday, not eventually, not some far off intangible time, but REALLY FUCKING SOON!!! I was going to have to go to the hospital, go through hours of unbearable pain, shove a bloody screaming mess of a human out of my vagina, and then take it home and turn it into a responsible member of society.
OH. SHIT.
I'm not ready for this. I mean, yes the nursery is all complete and waiting for a tiny child to make it usable, the car seat is installed, all of the bottles are washed and put away, and everything at work is ready for me to go on maternity leave. But I am not ready. I just got my shit together! Now it's going to be all...untogether, for a good 3 years!!! WTF HAVE I DONE?!?
So ya know what I did? I didn't color my hair. I was going to color my hair last night as the final preparation for birth. It's all I really have left to do, and I figured the little shit was waiting on that to make his grand entrance. So I didn;t do it. As long as I don't color my hair, he can't come out, right?
This makes sense in my pregnant brain.
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That logic makes sense. I kept making my 'to do' list longer thinking he would come at the most inconvenient time. Nope. I was 100% ready and had to evict the little shit.
ReplyDeleteYou could technically be pregnant for 4 more weeks... (don't hit me!) hahaha