Ready for Baby...

I don't want to shoot us in the feet / punch superstition in the nose / count my chickens, but I think we're ready for baby.

• The Project Management Timeline is complete.  The only thing left is Doug finishing up the Labor playlist, which I think he will be tinkering with until the baby comes out.  "OH!  I forgot 'Hold On' by Wilson Phillips!"
• The house is pretty much clean.  I just have to clean the bathroom, kitchen and vaccuum the house.  Doug already started by doing the dishes and dusting - in case some feminist buzzing was about to commence.
• The nursery is almost decorated.  We just have to put the giant tissue balls into the ceiling.  Not over the heat, rocking chair, crib or changing table...so we're left with little space, but we'll get it in there!
• The freezer and pantry are stocked.  With 4 cans of baked beans, much to Doug's chagrin but my immense satisfaction.
• We've watched our baby videos and spent time quizzing each other on "neh, eh, owh, eairh and heh" as well as how to count out the labor pushes (one and two and three and four and...). 
• My body is pretty primed.  There are no other details that I'd like burned into eternal internet memory other than he's getting pretty low.

Oh - but let's discuss dilation checks for a minute, shall we?  Apparently, the distance between one's opening of one's body and one's cervix is equivalent to the length of an ObG's forearm.  My first dilation check was a Hawaiian vacation compared to my second.  She's a dainty slip of a doctor who might have even exfoliated.  The second?  Let's just send up a prayer that you don't have a giant Russian man elbow-deep in your lady flower.

• Work projects are finished.  I have two 10-12 hour retreats coming up on Monday and Tuesday and a meeting on Wednesday.  If Pip can hold off until Wednesday night, that would be fantastic, but my uterus may not be that considerate.  I have a feeling that I encouraged God to play a little with me when I asked this of him.  I picture him going, "Oh, yeah, Blaine?  You think you're driving this bus?"
• I'm growing out of my clothes.  One day I actually had to pin the top of my pants to the bottom of my shirt in order not to show people my where-babies-come-from.
• And we've had our date day in the city.  We went to the Harry Potter exhibit in Times Square and to see "Bridesmaids."  Had some delicious Chipotle and walked around giggling, kissing and flirting.  It was magical.  Then we grocery shopped.  Eh, you gotta weigh it out.

Now it's all about getting mentally prepared, which, as Doug reminded me, we'll never be prepared for.  I can't wrap my mind around the pain, the restlessness, the uncomfortability (go with it) and the uncertainty of what's happening.  I also know that I can't wrap my mind around the end of the birth, holding that little boy, seeing my husband's face light upon Pip and knowing that I can sustain my son with my body when he latches on for the first (successful) time.  I actually got up the other night (one of the zillion times to pee) and had a feeling of "Oh gosh, I can't do this."  Immediately, I remembered what I've been taught - that God doesn't give anyone anything that they can't handle.  Which led me to realize that God has given us all the tools we need to bring a new baby into this world.  First off, he wouldn't have given me a healthy pregnancy if he didn't think we were ready.  Secondly, he wouldn't have surrounded us with all the loving family and friends we can stand, the comfy house where Pip will lay his head, the resources to give him what he needs and fabulous jobs that will give me 3 months off and Doug the chance to work from home for the same time (they're renovating his office).  I've been able to read many books to prepare myself for colic, breastfeeding and sleepless nights.  I've had a husband that has been absolutely unstoppable in making sure that I am comfortable and healthy.  I've had family and friends checking up on me and praying for us.  I really couldn't be in a more prepared spot.  I'm so grateful!

Wanna see me at 38 weeks?  Can you see how Pip is getting lower?

One last gasp on this one.  My favorite quote of the week:

After sending Courtney a picture of my bloated feet, she texted back: "They're getting there.  Send me a pic when your feet look like a couple of dead fish hanging off your legs."