Planning the Final Stretch
April 18, 2011
© Photo Courtesy of thinkgeek.com
38w1d - These penultimate weeks are comprised of lists:
- Clothing + Comfort Stuff for Hospital. Including the favorite ratty bathrobe that I think I'll crave between tub stints and hallway strolls (although everyone keeps telling me I'll likely recoil at the feeling of fabric on me mid-labor) and nursing tank tops in sizes that feel like a total crapshoot, given I've not been correct about any anticipated clothing size during this pregnancy thus far.
- Snacks to Pack for Hospital. Coconut water. Almonds. String cheese. Coconut water. Chocolate chip granola bars. Coconut water.
- Hospital Stuff for The Mister. So not my problem. Doula advises he should consider waterproof shoes. Questionable: Video camera?
- Clothing for Tertiary. In both itty-bitty and more-likely-chunkamunka sizes.
- Phone + Email Tree-ers. The families. The friends. Assorted super-supportive folk. I confess to having spent many a sleepless pre-dawn hour designing and redesigning Pingg.com birth announcements, slotting in possible first and middle names, poking around potential gendered themes. Suddenly, though, not a single draft looks like it would work for this baby, now. Must refine. Must compile a recipient list.
Were it not for said lists, I would likely continue to circle the rooms of our little house, trying my damndest to remember what it was I was I thought I needed to do in/ get from each space. I have sat at my computer a half-dozen times today, blanking each time I opened an application and instead, getting up for a snack. (Snacks do not confound me.)
I found my missing phone in the spice cabinet this weekend.
The Mister has begun to call me Tweedle.
These days are filled with what feel like teensy accomplishments: Finished final paper for grad school. Completed long-term freelance project. Washed last load of borrowed-and-new baby clothes. Organized surplus breastfeeding supplies. With each item I check off on my myriad lists, I hear my midwife's warning from last week: Do not run out of things to do. Plan something locally every day. You will lose.your.mind. otherwise.
So I have tea dates scheduled for every day this week. I'm churning out thank-yous and love-yous with abandon. I've started a new list (titled If—And Only If—There's Time) that contains things like planting pansies, making and freezing several dozen of something delicious, and sniffing out free stuff to do nearby with infants this summer.
And now, we wait.