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Friday, May 9, 2014

In which I have 11 weeks to go until I have a baby, apparently

Funny side effect of starting a new job with a large organization while pregnant: not everyone realizes I'm pregnant!  I think this is a combination of people not having a "normal not-pregnant Hayley" version of me to compare current me to, and me measuring a bit behind.  ("I'm very, very certain on dates!" I assured the midwives at the hospital.)

Anyway, the long and short of it is that I keep mentioning I'm pregnant, and people get all, "Wait, what?!" and I'm all, "Oh, yeah!  Due in 11 weeks!"  ("Look at the collection of rainbow socks and legwarmers I'm amassing! LOOK AT HOW TINY THEY ARE!" I want to add, but don't.  At least not IRL.)

Most concerning/creepy shipping email confirmation:
"YOUR BABYLEGS HAVE SHIPPED."

But seriously y'all.  I think I look like I have a cute little bump, but apparently it could still be mistaken for a burrito or two still, despite my impression that I am huge-gantic.  That or people are, like, way polite.  I think I look huge!  I feel huge.  The midwives aren't concerned about the measuring slightly behind as far as I can tell, so I'm trying not to be worried that I might be carrying a pixie.  At least I have a corgi for her to ride on, preferred steed of the fairy warriors.  At the last appointment her heartbeat was all, a-thump-thump-thump-thump [long-to-me pause .........] a-thump-thump-thump-thump and I'm all ready to freak out that she's got a heart arrhythmia or something, but the midwife said she just needed to stop laying on her cord, silly baby.  So.  This baby is just determined to give me small pangs of worry.  Probably for life.  This is my life from now on, isn't it? 

I'm trying to just go with the flow, and prepare as much as I can, which everyone keeps telling me is really only but so much.  And that's okay.  I feel like at least this experience has a more-or-less reasonable set of ways it could go (obviously, not really -- but it feels that way, even if that's not really reality, as I well know).  There are fewer "WHO KNOWS!" doctors who are throwing darts, and I find that comforting, even if I really don't know what the future will look like.  Experiencing a part of something other people experience routinely feels nice.  Like hey, I had this wacky and mindfuck-ish experience getting here, but now I'm here, and there are a few more road maps available in this gas station than there were at that other one.

So yep.  I'll just have another burrito, and enjoy the summer.



(Patrick turns 30 today!)

4 comments:

  1. Haha yes! Bring on the weird email subject lines! Subscribe to Babycenter for more of those. Like "Does your baby love you?" and other junk to keep you up at night. Ay yi yi. Soon you, too, will be enjoying the distinct pleasure of digging crusted milk out of your baby's neck-rolls.

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    1. "Does your baby love you?" O___O Damn!

      BABY NECK ROLLS is all I heard in that statement. Crusted what now? *focuses on baby neck rolls* ;)

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  2. Ugh, cleaning the neck can be so gross. Nothing like trying to carefully roll up itty bitty baby chins to find the crustiness underneath. *sigh* The beauty of parenting. ;)

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