July 28
I got up and at it early. This is my last day to feather my nest, so to speak… off I go to the pharmacies, department stores with a long list that has been checked at least three times and even bring home last minute groceries. I see another Mom-In-Waiting in the check out line, so front heavy she might topple over, moving like a ninety year old and think to myself, in an uncharitable way, I must admit, “Like, what is that all about?” We exchange smiles, asks each others ETA, OMG she is not due for a month. Wow! Okay… stop being so judgmental…. I say to myself.
Once I am home, everything is put away, the house cleaned from top to bottom, bottom to top, so I decided to call your Grandma. As soon as she answers the phone, I hear the, “Do Not Disturb” barrier in her tone. It is not like I routinely call to discuss the choice of diapers, Pampers or Huggies, or the state of the union or even the sultry weather, with threatening clouds hanging low. No, I just wanted to say to her that I will see her on the other side of delivery. However, I hardly got my hello in when she informed me firmly that she is baking donuts and the phone clicked in my ear. Now baking donuts is a finicky job, you have to stand over the pot of oil that is kept at an even temperature, flipping them with a fork as soon as they swell and turn golden. Also, this is her sixth grandchild of her sixth child so it is up to me to be an adult and understand that although it is all new territory for me, it has to be “been there, done that for her”. Even so my sky rocking, then plummeting hormones make me feel you and I have somehow been rejected.
I should know my mother by now. She did not say she’d call back later when she was finished… no surprise she didn’t. Cripes Katie, I have known her 31 years, how can I still worry about something I have no control over?
July 29– Early hours to just before dawn
There was no sleep last night. First off, even though the house has air conditioning, the cool air never makes it completely up the vents to our bedroom on the second floor, at the opposite end of our basement. It was a muggy, humid night during which your father snored righteously and religiously. I went downstairs and stretched out on the couch, caressing my tummy, savoring our last hours together, fully realizing that outside influences will come in to play the very minute you touch down. Still, being me, I find time to worry that the Medical World is not ready for us. Only time will reveal if I have a point.