Piglet Pie: Happy Due Date!

Today is April 12, 2005. Since August 2, 2004, the day we found out we were pregnant, this date has been emblazoned on my mind, permeated all my thoughts. My little pregnancy ticker has ticked down. I'm 40 weeks pregnant today. It's my due date.

It's hard to believe. I actually feel quite good. Certainly, there are moments of groaning and aching, lots of fatigue and crampiness, and a complete loss of the ability to think about anything but baby baby baby, but still, I feel good. Many of the big complaints of late pregnancy I seem to have avoided--shortness of breath, heartburn, leg cramps, painful kicks to the ribs. My belly, while impressively large and round, is also still quite cute in my mind. I can sleep for hours at a stretch. I am, for all intents and purposes, really happy.

And yet, I want to meet this baby. On the outside. I want to see her face rather than feel her head pounding against my pelvis. I want to kiss her little toes. I want to see whether she inherited my tush or Owen's. Mostly, I just want to snuggle with her.

The good news is that it seems she's eager to meet us as well. At yesterday's doctor's appointment, Dr. Love joked, "Why's that baby still inside?!" I responded that Owen was defending his master's thesis yesterday afternoon, and she was instructed not to make her grand entrance until afterwards. As he checked me, Dr. Love remarked, "Well, it's a good thing the defense is today, because this baby is a LOT lower."

Same dilation, but she's working her way down. This is excellent--it means that all the little steps we have to take to get her out are in go-mode. My cervix is thinning and opening, and she's moving deeper into the pelvis. She's doing her part, I'm doing mine, and we're finally just days away.

So I'm trying to remain at least marginally aware of the world around me, not be completely subsumed by pre-labor-brain. But if I haven't called you back...I apologize. I've discovered that I can't seem to remember to call people during the hours it's appropriate to call. I only remember either way too early in the morning, or way too late at night, or in the middle when no one's home anyway but me. Ah, well--in a few days I'm going to be on a baby's constant feeding and sleeping schedule, and who knows what that's going to do to my brain. I guess we'll see.

And in a final note, huzzah to Owen, who is now a Master of Fine Arts. His thesis defense was impressive. Four bearded men sitting around a table discussing Kierkegaard, Vonnegut, Sartre, Joyce...and Egerton. I sat enjoying it all from a dual perspective, interested academic and glowing wife. I noticed throughout that each time Owen would talk for an extended time, the baby would start wiggling and kicking. I think she approves of his novel as well.

Enjoy today, April 12th. It's a beautiful sunny spring day in Austin. If you need us, we'll by trying our hand at some Putt-Putt.