Justin got a phone call last night congratulating him on being a father. This was a rather weird and awkward call because 1. it was 2:00 A.M., 2. the guy who called is a second-degree friend, so Justin didn't recognize him right away, and 3. I haven't actually had the baby yet. The best explanation I can think of is that Justin mentioned September 29 as the due date somewhere along the line and it was assumed, either by the second- or first-degree friend, that she was born yesterday, because babies always come on their due dates. Of course anyone who's given birth knows that babies rarely come on their due dates--in fact, I had thought anyone who has been born would know this, especially anyone who has been born late and has a Jewish mother. But maybe not.
I am only a nerd in one way, but boy am I nerdy as far as that goes.
(In the interest of full disclosure, I'm counting immediate access to things as if they were not still packed in boxes. We own atlases of both the Greek and Roman ancient world! Actually, I just realized that since they're Justin's, all this means is I'm married to a nerd. But I'm married, which makes me less of an awkward nerd. I was surprised how un-awkward-nerdish I am.)
I am officially due this Saturday, September 29. I am unofficially due on October 3, this date based on my actually being present at the creation, which the doctors and the charts by which they calculate estimated due dates were not, so I think I am right. Either way, Baby With Flat Hat is going to come whenever she pleases, which I am guessing to be later rather than sooner, because she certainly never seems to tire of using my ribs as a footrest. Also as of last Tuesday I am not dilated or any of those other things you never wanted to know about my cervix. Also I think I can pretty honestly say I haven't had a contraction, Braxton-Hicks or otherwise, except maybe for a couple of times when I've tried to move heavy-ish stuff around the carriage house (don't tell Justin; or actually he knows, and I haven't lately).
I can see now why the last month of pregnancy invariably sucks. I can't really complain because I've had a good run so far. Complain about: the feet, which I think are throwing my back out so it's hard to sit upright for any length of time (makes going out to eat unpleasant); the pelvic pressure (to put it politely) which makes it excruciating to roll over in bed, which I have to do about twenty zillion times a night because of the aforementioned backache; and, um, actually the rest isn't that bad. I had awful heartburn for a while but then I discovered Tums around the same time that I think she moved her head down into my pelvis, which seems not to have made her want to move her feet but at least has taken pressure off my stomach.
I am guaranteed a baby by October 13 because I have been told I will not be allowed to go more than two weeks past my due date (the official one). Not that I want to be induced, but at that point I'll probably be ready for anything.
And if the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, this might be necessary. See, for example, her parents' track record:
Justin: Due August 18 (I think). Born September 5. Juliet: Due May 8. Born June 6. (Seriously.)
Today I wrestled with various rather important baby items I ought to have dealt with before, but I am so convinced this girl will be late that I've been lazy about a lot of things. The co-sleeper is now attached to the bed, and the carseat base to the car, although I am not sure how Justin and the baby can comfortably occupy the passenger side of the Corolla at the same time so I might have to start letting him drive more.
My dad is swinging through town tonight for dinner. I hope I can sit still that long. I had sort of hoped that I would have the baby this past weekend so he could meet his granddaughter, but then I would probably not be up for dinner.
Yes, I'm in Connecticut now, and I'm still pregnant. More about that sooner or later.
Yesterday I was happy for two reasons:
1. My cousin Sarah is engaged. I've only met her fiance once, in March when Justin and I were in Seattle and we were all at my grandmother's 85th birthday party. But the two of them seemed almost giddily happy together, and I'm glad they are planning to be happy together for the rest of their lives. And I love weddings, especially weddings I can attend because I won't be eight months pregnant.
2. My dad is passing through town on business in a week and a half, so I get to see him and have dinner. Assuming I am not in labor or anything.
Today I am still happy, but sad too. Scott Becker (the author of Aufhebung on my blogroll) passed away this morning. He was the assistant pastor at Bethany Community Church, my church in Seattle when I lived there. He left to get a PhD in Christian ethics and was working on his dissertation when he was diagnosed with liver cancer last fall. I haven't really kept in touch with him since I moved away from Seattle, but he was an awesome person and a gifted writer, and as much as I regret his passing, there are so many people who will miss him even more. Richard Dahlstrom, the senior pastor at Bethany, wrote a more fitting tribute to him here.