As I was frantically throwing together contents for a makeshift hospital bag last night, my second contraction searing across the front of my belly, a number of things came to mind. I'll list them here in no particular order.
1. Hell to the no. This. IS NOT. Happening.
2. Was it Caleb's car accident today (he's fine), his overall health (not so much), Harlow's screaming fit that culminated in her peeing all over herself in the car, or our protracted city hall battle with our entire neighborhood over a fence the reason I maybe in labor 2 months early?
3. Can we legally have a baby when I don't even have my maternity clothes from Harlow out of storage?
4. Seriously, this is not happening.
5. What the hell is wrong with me? There are pregnant women in battlezones who go to full term, right. Man up... woman!
6. Why are medical terms so inherently gross? Mucous plug? Bloody show? And I'm pretty sure that the m.p. is supposed to be uh, still plugged in right now. Not in my toilet.
7. Can the movers pack up our apartment? Cause I haven't really gotten around to that step yet.
8. OMFG this can't be happening.
9. The kid doesn't have single diaper, a onesie, a blanket. A carseat! Where the hell are my nursing bras?
10. We're technically safe at week 32. But this means the kid will be in the NICU. Because I couldn't handle my stress, will my kid suffer long term learning/health disabilities? Google sure thinks so.
11. I fantasize about about kicking the next person who says pregnant women should avoid the internet.
12. Will my milk come in?
13. Why is my back hurting and now my front? Is this really it or just from the half-sleeve of girl scout cookies I consumed today?
14. Man, this sure will seem funny a long, long, really really long time from now.
15. How many times have I said the word diarrhea to my husband in the past hour?
16. Could there be a less dignified experience?
17. So maybe this isn't really happening.
Very happy to report that the evening ended with me asleep in bed, not semi conscious in the hospital, giving birth to a kid hellbent on being an Aquarius. Will spend the weekend letting go, being the spoon, breathing deep, and making sure my hospital bag is stocked with trashy magazines. And girl scout cookies. You know, just in case the whole letting go thing doesn't take.