Centimeters dilation, that is. As of this morning I'm officially one centimeter closer to the goal. Dr. Love seemed quite pleased by this, as am I. Apparently, all my visualizations of "opening" are actually working, as are the conversations I've been having with the baby and my uterus. Ideally, I'd love to keep on dilating but hold off the actual labor until, say, at least Thursday night. I have some student papers coming in Thursday that I'd love to grade before handing off the class...but then, if she wants to join us before then, we'll welcome her readily! And lately, I wouldn't win any awards for my teaching or grading abilities.
These days, my brain is toast. I can read baby-related books, I can slowly do some light cleaning/organizing around the house, and I can bounce on my birth ball, sit in the yard, go for short walks, eat my toast and nutella, and sleep, sleep, sleep. But things like grading, thinking about my dissertation, and other non-baby-related pursuits are pointless. I'm completely ineffective. Frankly, I just don't care, and can't make myself care. And I'm fine with that.
I'm also incredibly round. My front is just one big lump of baby, and whenever it squeezes tight with a Braxton-Hicks contraction, you can completely see the outline of the baby's back. When she gets her little feet going, you can watch them walk across the side and top of my belly. She's a little mover and shaker, always wiggling, squirming, walking. She likes to have her back stroked, likes to have her bottom rubbed, likes to push her feet and her fists into our hands. She's wonderful...and yet we still don't really know her. I can't picture in the least what she's going to look like. I still don't have a clear sense of what her name might be. But wow, I already feel a powerful attachment to her. There's a part of my brain that is constantly, constantly thinking about this baby. It's amazing, wonderful, and humbling. I can't wait to see what comes next.
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