The Girl Who Cried Wolf

I’ve now been pregnant for 36 weeks. Well, technically, I’ve been pregnant for 34 weeks, but the medical world, for whatever crazy reason, counts the two weeks between your last period and the time you actually conceive as being pregnant. Maybe for the sake of making it an even 40 weeks? Actually, there is a medical reason, but I’ve forgotten it, and I’m too tired to look it up. Why am I too tired? Aside from the very good excuse that I’m carrying around a watermelon in my abdomen, it’s actually because I was up at 0421 this morning with fairly strong contractions. And, for about 20 minutes, they were every 3-5 minutes apart. I got kind of excited, because I thought, hey, maybe I slept through most of the other contractions, and I’m going straight to the good stuff! Thirty minutes later, that thought was over. Back to bed I went, and I’ve had no more contractions since. Carson thought it was fun though. He danced around in my uterus, making it very difficult for me to actually get back to sleep. Ryan slept through the whole ordeal. Men. I think next time I’ll wake him up and keep me company.

Yesterday was fairly productive. If you can call walking miles vainly searching for mom’s birthday present productive, that is. I can’t say it was entirely fruitless–I did manage to find the perfect card! Oh, and I got the dogs a couple of new toys. They’ve been a little neglected since we’ve been buying for Carson. I got some funny looks as I waddled through the mall. Some were even bold enough to point and whisper to their friends. My guess is that the giant watermelon squeezed under my too-small maternity t-shirt (the Gap does NOT understand the concept of maternity clothes) looked a little like it felt–uncomfortably large for my frame. However, I managed to outwalk most shoppers, and for the first time in several weeks, I felt really good. Except for my feet. Those hurt really bad. But, the exercise did me a world of good. Ladies and gentlemen, this girl was not meant to be a sedentary couch potato. My mom was of course horrified to hear that I had spent the afternoon on my feet walking, but since I didn’t go into labor afterwards, I’d say some exercise is probably a pretty safe undertaking by now. Makes me wonder if maybe we went a little overboard with all the bed rest…but, I don’t disagree with my doctor one bit. He did was he knew was best to prevent me from bringing Carson into this world 10 weeks too early, and we had no way of knowing how I’d bounce back. Just goes to show you: God and babies have their own plan, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 🙂 Of course, now that we’re out of the woods as far as Carson’s development is concerned, we’re on a little bit of a time crunch. Ryan has been told he had to go back to Ranger school on the 21st (due date is the 27th), so there is a decent chance that he will be enduring something almost as miserable as what I’ll be enduring when I go into labor. Except with about half as much pain. I suppose I could call Red Cross again and have him pulled out, but he’s kind of in a bind and needs to go this class (longer story than I want to blog). So, ideally, I’ll go into labor towards the end of this week (Happy birthday, Mom, hehe) and have Carson on Saturday, the 6th so that the whole family can make it down for Carson’s birthday. Uhm, that’s a pretty big favor to ask the Big Man Upstairs. Still, the fingers are crossed!

Meanwhile, all these contractions have me feeling like the girl who cried wolf, so I’m trying not to call everyone when I have 3 or 4 in a row, but at the same time, given that everyone has to drive 9+ hours to get here, how do I decide when I need to give the heads up? These are the dilemmas I’m facing these days. That, and a never-ending pile of laundry and dishes… Seems like every time I get caught up on either one, they magically reappear. How does that happen? Oh, I have a fairly good idea…

I’m making steady progress on Carson’s blanket. I got so excited a few days ago because I thought I was 2 squares away from being finished with the 4 round squares, only to find out I needed 49 instead of 40. A little disappointing, but I finally finished them two nights ago, and am now 3 squares closer to finishing the 16 6 round squares. However, I’m starting to panic a little. Each 6 round takes me about an hour (16 hours worth of squares means at least 4 days–I can only crochet so much in a day!), and then I have 7 eight round squares (I’m guessing they’ll take me 1.5 hours each–10.5 hours is 3-4 days), and finally 2 ten round and 2 twelve round squares that will probably take 2 hours each. I’m scared I won’t finish the blanket in time. This wouldn’t be that big of a deal, except if I don’t finish it before he’s born, there’s a very good chance it will be transported to the back of a closet where it will be forgotten for a very long time (like, maybe when he’s 13 and no longer wants a woobie). I’ve invested way too many hours and dollars to not finish it. By the way, I now understand why blankets and quilts are so expensive. $4.99/skein of yarn, and I’ve bought 8 so far (and will likely need a minimum of 4 more before I’m done), and I cannot count how many hours invested… I’d probably charge a fortune if I made these things for a living!

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