Baby laundry on a Saturday night. Best. Thing. Ever.
No, it’s not what you think. Just thought it was worth mentioning that I bought a carton of milk at the grocery store that expires on my due date. Holy moly!!
Lately I have been having a hard time getting the house as clean as I like it. Now, don’t get me wrong. I am by no means a clean-freak. The house is never spotless, even when we’re planning to have guests. and although I’m feeling some aspects of the nesting instinct, that rears its head more with clutter and organization than with scrubbing toilets and ovens. In an act of desperation, I asked a wonderful housekeeper to give our house a good scrub on Tuesday. She has been cleaning my parent’s home since I was in high school, and has a few of my friends as regular clients. I was thrilled to come home Tuesday to a house that smelled like clean.
Fast forward to Thursday. Around 4:30 p.m., The Man calls. Our conversation went something like this:
Man: “Um Lain…I just walked into something I don’t know what to do with.”
M: “I seriously don’t konw what to do”
M: “Lain. The house is literally covered in shit”
L: “Literally? or….”
M: “Yes, literally. one of the dogs is sick.”
Turns out one of our lovely pups had a stomach bug or ate something funky. Lets just say that when I got home from work at 6:15 p.m., The Man was still scrubbing the kitchen floor.
A lot of scrubbing, mopping and Lysol later, the house stopped smelling like poo and was once again gleaming with clean smell. A twice a week deep clean of this house is EXACTLY what I need. But this was not what I had in mind!
The silver lining, you ask?
a lot of mess was contained on our dining room area rug. It’d been looking kind of grubby lately, and well…. yeah, we’re getting a new one. Nothing like a brand spanking new rug to welcome baby!
(and in case you were wondering, the pups are fine. I think it was Lacey, since she got up with me to go outside during my regular middle of the night bathroom break on Wednesday)
I had my third to last “regular” OB visit this morning. Most doctors will not let a pregnant woman go more than two weeks past her due date, since the incidence of stillbirth rises quite a bit after 42 weeks. That being said, my doctors are very eager to let woman go into labor on their own, and will wait until about 10 days after a woman’s due date to demand an induction. Unless medically necessary, they won’t schedule an induction to take place until a week after the due date.
Our hope is for a baby that arrives just on time. But in the event I do go (exceptionally) late, I was told that July 19th is the last day the doctor would let me stay pregnant (July 22 starts my 42nd week). It’s funny to know that we will have this kiddo in less than 4 weeks.
The past few weeks I have been waiting to “drop”. Having an almost fully grown baby pressing up on my stomach is not a party: imagine craving your favorite meal, taking three bites, and then feeling overwhelmingly full. oh, but it doesn’t stop there. in about an hour, you’re famished again. You can’t even sigh in frustration because oops! you don’t have enough room in your lungs to take a deep breath! And the heartburn! hello Tums!
Tuesday night I had the most heavenly pre-natal massage. In addition to making my hips work again, I think that it gave the baby a little room to DROP DOWN! A few comments at work on Wednesday brought me to inspect my bare belly when I got home. Yup. Definitively more room in the boob area. Then Thursday I started getting that “you feel like the baby is going to fall out” pressure that Christy told me about. So Exciting! If there was any doubt before, I am DEFINITELY having a baby in the next few weeks! But I can’t help to mirror The Man’s reaction: when he took a look at the shifting weight of my belly, he looked at me, slightly wide-eyed, with a sense of bewilderment, and said “Oh yeah. You’re stomach is lower. so. what does that mean?…… in terms of….timing….?”
Uh? 2 weeks?