Did hula-hoops on the Wii Fit tonight. That didn’t help any more than half an hour of Just Dance at my friend’s house the other night did. There is absolutely zip going on in my uterus. Perfect Husband keeps helping me do squats, because someone told him that would help open my pelvis to let the baby drop. He also grabs the lower part of my belly and hefts it upwards to try and lift-and-dunk the baby back into the pelvis. This is a refinement of his earlier technique of pushing on the top of my belly, like Babby is toothpaste to be squeezed into the end of the tube.
I appreciate all of these efforts, but our unborn infant remains serenely bobbing around my belly button, occasionally squirming into a new position or suffering a case of hick-ups. I have the occasional Braxton-Hicks contraction, but very mild and actually less uncomfortable and more rare than in the past. My body clearly has no idea that it is supposed to be evicting the baby, and hopefully it’ll figure this out before the baby runs out of air in there. A ticker running along the bottom of the CBC news screen tonight said “study reveals that overdue babies are at higher risk of cerebral palsy.”
I’m trying to get in a bit of living while I still can. The other night we took my mother for sushi, and I was thinking “this is the last time I’ll be able to sit peacefully in a quiet, upclass restaurant for a whole meal.” Then I went to my friend’s house and ate caramel corn and peach cobbler and played Just Dance with lots of girly giggling and thought “this is the last time I’ll be able to hang out for an evening unencumbered with my friends…” and
Tonight I wanted to watch a movie – my mother has never seen The Shawshank Redemption, can you believe that? And besides, I recently found a DVD called Mega Shark vs Giant Octopus which can only be AWESOMELY TERRIBLE and can’t wait to see exactly HOW bad it is – but my husband came home from work exhausted and fell asleep on the couch by nine, so my mother went upstairs and played Farmville while I took a bath. And instead of thinking “we’ll watch a movie tomorrow night,” I’m thinking “there goes my last chance to watch a movie EVER because tomorrow night I could be in excruciating pain instead of watching a movie and then we’ll have a baby and then we’ll never EVER be able to do anything non-diaper related EVER AGAIN.”
I’m mentally tallying all the things I still have yet to do. Like take a close-up picture of Perfect Husband’s hands on my belly, preferably with my hands in the picture, too. My photographer/cloud-painting friend left her super awesome camera with us so we could do just that, but my mother took a couple distance shots and then PH got frustrated because HE wasn’t taking the pictures (which he is quite good at) but of course he can’t take pictures of his own hands, so now there’s a lot of photos of my cat, but not so many of his hands on my belly. I DID manage to get some video footage of my belly heaving when the baby was hopped up on a glass of Pepsi I had just guzzled, however, so at least there’s that.
Also, the friend who was supposed to get me the moses basket stand ACTUALLY did, yesterday! She and a client of mine (her dog was one of the first I ever trained) took Mum and me to Applebees for lunch. They set up helium balloons with “It’s a Boy!” next to me in the booth and I opened presents. On top of the moses basket stand, which was a great relief, there was also baby booties that look like doggy faces, pirate socks for Talk Like a Pirate Day, and a Spa Baby tub, which my mother decided was the niftiest thing EVAR, and which I have decided I approve of largely because it takes up WAY less space than your standard baby tub. We talked babies and bitched about the recent federal decision not to fund Liberation Treatment for MS, and my client told us about people she knew who had received it, and all the while the dog that I trained for her slept peacefully under the table.
It was nice.