Yesterday was my due-date.

I looked around at the hand-me-down baby-gear that has been waiting in the garage for months and realized it needed washing, so I dismantled & washed & dried & then reconstructed 2 infant car-seats and 3 infant swings. I re-packed the hospital bag for Ben & me along with the sleepover bag for Sophie (who will be staying with our fabulous neighbor while Ben & I go to the hospital). I also washed 3-dozen newborn-size cloth diapers, although I don’t know why the directions say to wash those things before using.

Then I couldn’t resist checking my campus email, even though I’m supposed to be on maternity leave and letting others do all the teaching stuff right now. I couldn’t quite face academic research, though, so after that I gardened, walked on the beach, ate spicy food, read, chatted with friends, took a long cooling bath (it’s been HOT here: San Diego’s perfect weather is not-so-perfect lately), and tried to massage the trigger-points that are supposed to start labor. I googled “natural labor induction” and learned that the only slightly-scientifically-tested methods are acupuncture or sex, but the best advice I found was to get off the internet and just go take a nap.

Instead, I went to cyclocross practice at a park, to see friends there. I swear, I didn’t actually practice jumping over hurdles with a bicycle — partly because two days ago, at a bbq celebration of another friend’s new backyard rock-climbing wall, another mom justifiably scolded me for climbing up six feet off the ground.

I am actually exhausted — but I’m not one to nap all day, and I am one who has trouble resisting rock-climbing walls. The baby dropped down four days ago, so now my belly feels heavier and I have to pee every 20 minutes. These are the joys of late-stage pregnancy. I’m just grateful I didn’t get them throughout my third trimester. My midwife tells me that I am one cm dilated — which means there’s something happening, but not very much. I get about four contractions a day.

One of the advantages of having a second child is that this time through, I understand that due-dates are guesstimates at best. Sophie was 4 days late, and Everett’s official due-date has varied from Sept 7 to 12th — which means I should probably expect him on the 16th. I even know to be happy that my body is dilating gradually, without the pain of truly active labor. Still, I’m ready to meet Everett now.

When I picked up Sophie from preschool last week, one of her classmates genially asked me, “Is your belly about to explode?”

UPDATE: I forgot to add that, last time through, a Unitarian Minister told me that it’s actually fabulous to be experiencing one of the few major life-events that is unschedule-able. He told me that the Bible actually has two words for time. One is chronos, clock-time, calendar-time, countable-time. The other is the time it takes a fruit to ripen: unmeasurable time. It’s also called God’s time.


2 responses to “Waiting

  1. Aunt Marla

    I vacuumed our entire home the day before Mandy was born.

    We haven’t heard yet, but I bet it’s time to say, “Welcome, Everett!”


  2. George E. Lewinnek

    The waiting is over–Everett was born late on Sept. 13. Mother and child are doing fabulously

    George Lewinnek, proud grandfather.

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