Three weeks, two days. Then I wake up early (as if I’ll have gotten any sleep the night before) to go to the hospital to deliver Sun. I will finally get to see her face, her arms and legs, her fingers and toes. I’ll get to hear her voice–her first cry.

Peanut will have to adjust to not being the cutest creature in the house anymore nor the one who gets the most attention. I already feel bad for her. Sweet, loyal kitty. She’s been all about me this past week–very out of character for her; she’s usually all over CS. I swear I think she knows about the baby and that she’s trying to get in good with me while she can. I am okay with that. But it won’t change the demotion she will suffer in three weeks, two days.

I know I will need all the help I can get and will be grateful to have it–that I’ll want to see family and friends and to have them meet Sun, too. But looking forward, all I want right now is to get Sun home and have CS and I spend all those sleepless hours alone getting to know her and her getting to know us. I don’t feel I’ll want to share her, even to show her off. I just want to hole up and keep her to myself. I’ve gotten used to having her all to myself. Hell, sharing her with CS will be enough sharing for me! I don’t even like the idea of having visitors at the hospital. I feel I need a headstart on being a mother before the world actually sees me as one for real.

Oh, how my world is about to change. Will I actually feel the earth shake under my feet? I’ll know in three weeks, two days.

My visit to the OB went very well today. Sun’s heart rate measured well on the non-stress test and the OB settled some concerns we have regarding Sun’s hyper-extended neck. We are still on track for the June 29 delivery.

And I dropped my busted car off at the shop to get it fixed and picked up the rental car. I am pleased to report that the guy who hit me did not change his story and admitted his liability to his insurer. So the really good news is that the repairs will be paid directly by his insurance company and they are also paying for my rental car. It’s so nice when people are honest and things go as they should. Aahhh.

I rested up the rest of the day and am feeling pretty good. No cramping today at all. And the work on the back porch is coming along really nicely. Let’s hope the rain goes away so they can continue to work on it! I am looking forward to a full day at work tomorrow. Things almost seem normal over here!

As I move forward with my pregnancy, and the monitoring of Sun gets more in depth, my battle with anxiety has been ongoing. I know I suffer with anxiety and have to rally to rise above it. And ultimately I always do, but sometimes it gets the better of me first.

One thing that has always helped with my anxiety is yoga. A good yoga session can free my mind of all worries and anxieties–like plunging into cold water that makes you gasp for breath. You simply are brought to another mental space that is free of all that was previously on your mind.

These days, the physical aspects of my yoga practice are limited. But the lessons of yoga go well beyond standing up straight and being flexible.

It was Becky at the Audubon Yoga Studio who put me solidly on my yogic path. Becky once told our class of an incident that happened while she was in Pune, India studying under B.K.S. Iyengar. One day, some of the students got bummed out over something or other. Without realizing it, they began moping around–walking with their shoulders sunk in and their heads down. Mr. Iyengar saw this and bellowed, “Look up! Look up!”

It is Mr. Iyengar’s opinion that the mere act of looking up toward the sky can in and of itself improve your mood. Something so simple seemed so silly. But by looking up, one automatically throws one’s shoulders back and “opens one’s chest.” This creates space, and, according to Mr. Iyengar, this space leads to positive energy.

And damned if this simple rule hasn’t worked for me time and again. Positive energy? An open chest? Creating space? I don’t know what is going on physically, mentally or physiologically, but I do know that the simple act of looking up helps, even if just a little bit, with my depression and anxiety.

As I lay on the exam table getting the ultrasound Thursday and was told that Sun’s neck is hyper-extended, that she is perpetually looking up, I couldn’t help but hear Mr. Iyengar in the back of my mind admonishing his students to do the same. As worrisome as Sun’s neck situation is to me, I hold on to a deep hope I have for Sun–that she not suffer with anxiety the way her mother does and that she knows the positive results that come from looking up. And maybe all this time she is spending looking up is putting her on a path she will instinctively follow for her life–one of seeing that glass as half full.

So here’s how things progressed (or should I say regressed?) yesterday afternoon:

Number 1. Some yahoo in a SUV failed to look in his rear view mirror before putting his tank in reverse to get a spot in the parking lot at the hospital. So he backed into my car. CS waylaying on the horn had no effect on him at all. Errrr. We were both driving relatively slowly and we are fine, but my car is crunched. I am pissed.

Number 2. I get past dealing with the car insurance idiots (by having to talk to an obtuse, English-is-not-my-first-language chick) and am waiting to see the doctor only to suffer the LOUDEST EATER OF CANDY I have ever had to endure. So then my nerves were good and frazzled.

Number 3. After waiting for over an hour to get in with the doctor, I am AGAIN told to drink more water than I currently am. That is not humanly possible, but whatever.

Number 4. Sun is still breech. I don’t see this changing as she’s only growing larger and the gaps of amniotic fluid (again with the water thing) are just going to get less and less as she grows. And with less room, less chance of her turning.

Number 5. The doctor tells us that Sun’s head is extended backwards to such a degree that the back of her head is touching her back. Not sure how long her head has been in this position–at least a week. So they are wanting to keep an eye on that, too. Apparently it isn’t a concern relating to Sun in utero or to the pregnancy. Just something that may require her to need physical therapy once she’s born. Yeah, yeah, the water thing AGAIN–she may not have the room she needs to bring her head down. Her neck looks normal. No goiters (whatever those are–I thought you had to be 80 years old and mean to have those) or other apparent cause.

Errr.

Yesterday’s mini-shopping spree was spot-on. I got those few lingering items that I will need to take to the hospital with me, including a really cool sock monkey robe–no, it isn’t MADE of sock monkeys, it’s just got a design of sock monkeys all over it. (Is it just that it is still early in the morning for me or did I really just need to look up how to spell “monkeys?”)

My sister was insistent that she buy Sun’s “going home” outfit (which she thinks will also be the day of her official hospital photo). After a long, hard search, we settled on this:

It looks really big in this picture, but it isn’t at all, and it is really soft (I don’t know what they did to the cotton) and cute.

And then (Southern Mom, are you sitting down?), I bought this onesie for Sun:

[Oh my God! Did I just post my first pictures to this website?? I think I did! Thanks, Pete!]

SM has been insisting I need to buy clothes for Sun. I have been insisting right back that I didn’t need to be buying any clothes for her–that (1) I needed to see what I’d get in the way of clothes at the shower first; and (2) I felt superstitious about buying things too soon. But then I saw this and HAD TO HAVE IT. And I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that I call myself Nola on this website. It was just such a cute New Orleans onesie I literally could not resist. Very much out of character for me–I generally HATE shopping and have never had a “had-to-have-it” moment over any item of clothing.

All in all, yesterday’s outing was nice, restful and productive. And last night I slept very well (I may have even slept eight hours in a row!) and am feeling really well today and quite positive about our doctor’s visit this afternoon.

That cramp in my abdomen (I guess I can call it a contraction–that just seems so weird!) returned this morning. So yet another day not at the office! Oy. I am drinking water like a fish and trying not to worry. That is hard for me to do–the no worrying thing.

So to get my mind off of things, I am doing what any self respecting woman would do–I am going shopping with my sister. I still need a few items that I need to take to the hospital when it’s the Real Thing, and it seems like I better just go ahead and knock that out. My sister offered to chauffeur me around slowly and restfully so I can get those few things purchased. And we’ll do lunch somewhere in there, too. It always helps me to have a nice meal to look forward to.

Then tomorrow, we are back to the ultrasound doctor to see how things are coming along. My mantra is, “Week 35; Week 35.” Apparently, a baby born in or after Week 35 has far less preemie problems than one born earlier. That is next week. Surely I can make that, right?

I wasn’t feeling well today, and all I ate was a bagel. Then this afternoon, I felt this sharp, shooting cramp in my abdomen. No biggie, I think, it’ll pass. Fifteen minutes pass, then thirty, and I am still cramping. After an hour of no relief, I call the doctor and CS and we are told to go the the hospital. Yeah, I figured they’d tell me that. Damn.

We get to the Labor & Delivery Unit and I get hooked up to the fetal heart monitor. Of course, by this time, the cramp is no longer sharp and shooting but dull and not worrisome to me. The RN asks, “On a scale of one to ten, where would you put the pain?” How embarrassing to say weakly, “Two point five.” I mean, I never told anyone it was hurting–I used the word “cramp.” What worried me was that this cramp was constant for over an hour. Boy, did I feel like a hypochondriac/paranoid/overly sensitive patient. I hate that feeling.

After an hour on the fetal heart monitor, the RN tells me that I am having contractions. Wha?? Since being on the monitor, I am feeling less and less of the cramp and no new sensation. And somewhere in there were contractions? I do NOT get this being pregnant thing. Nothing feels as I would expect it.

So what do they do to help me before sending me on my way? I am further embarrassed to say that they gave me a tall glass of water to drink. Water. To drink. I drink water all day long. It is ridiculous how much water I drink. Except today. Since I ate so little, I drank less than I usually do. And apparently that brought on contractions. Errrr.

The OB tells me today that Sun is being scheduled for a C-section delivery on June 29th. She may come sooner, but if not (and she stays breech), we will be doing a C-section in one month (two weeks before her due date).

Well, well. On the one hand, I am relieved. All this monitoring is a drag, and to have a date set is somewhat reassuring. And she could still flip which would cause them to induce instead of do a C-section.

But it just all seems so surreal. In one short month (or sooner), I will be a mother. And CS will be a father. And I still have no idea how to do most of any of this baby stuff. I am confident it will come to me. It’s not that I am worried I won’t be a “good mother.” It’s just that I still haven’t fully wrapped my head around the fact that I will be a “mother.” That is a label I never really get to a comfortable place with. On some level, I fell like a dog who always chases cars–except this time the dog caught a car and is going “thump, thump, thump” down the street.

The energy that has been put into getting pregnant and maintaining this pregnancy has been very time consuming–and distracting of the fact that the result of all that energy is a baby. Period. It was all for this one thing. I mean, we KNEW that the baby was the end result. But I allowed myself to get so focused on the process that sometimes I haven’t seen the forest for the trees. And right now, I feel like I am coming out of the forest, and the trees are thinning out and in the horizon is my pot of gold. All shiny and perfect and waiting for me.

But somehow I know that what I think the value of that pot of gold is isn’t what it really is. And the real journey will begin when I lay my very own eyes on my very real baby–not ultrasound pictures or mental images–but on Sun her very own self. I don’t see how it’s possible to be prepared for that moment. The moment when I will meet who I know will be the most important person in my life.

Today, after our usual Sunday morning breakfast with Southern Mom and her family, we managed to get the SM clan over to our house so SM could show me how to assemble the layers of sheets and pads on the crib. They really ought to have a class for new parents on all the baby accouterments–I defy someone to tell me they intrinsically knew what to do with all this stuff without getting advice from other mothers. It’s insane! So a big thanks to SM!!

The second to last thing to be done in the nursery is to install a ceiling fan. We selected and purchased one today (I’d tell you it is pastel and has butterfly pulls, but then SM will say that the theme in the nursery is butterflies–because Sun’s mobile also has butterflies–but then I’d have to kill SM). CS promises the fan will be finished tomorrow. That will leave one last thing needing to be done in the nursery–the wood floors need a good polish to put a shine back on them that eight dog paws took off. That will be done this week. The nursery will be complete. All it will need is the baby. That is so weird to me.

Also today, CS and I went to see Spider-Man 3. I knew going in I wouldn’t like it. I don’t like Tobey Maguire, and I’d heard he cried (with tears) eight times in the movie and that Kirsten Dunst sang three times. Yuck. Thank God she never finished a song; I’d have cried, too. CS was all kinds of angry for the movie being so bad. I explained that his expectations were too high. I, on the other hand, expected crap and got what I expected. No letdown, no anger.

Oh, and my Mad Libs Thank You Note was returned to us today by the recipients. They had filled in all my blanks. So do I now need to send a card in response to their responding to my card? Ugh!

Here’s the completed card (the bracketed words were the lexical or other category beneath my blanks; the underlined words are those blanks as filled in by our friends):

Dear O Generous Ones [gift giver]:

Thank you so much for the Target gift card. We are certain to use it for various and sundry baby items, including chicken wire, mouse traps, and electroshock devices [nouns for baby stuff]. We are really traumatized [positive adjective] by your jocular [positive adjective] gift. You really shouldn’t have.

Love,
Nola and CS

CS and I went to Greek Fest last night with, it seemed, the rest of New Orleans. Pete was there, and Southern Mom and her family, and many friends. We had a really good time–the weather was divine. In New Orleans, the weather can make or break an evening: last night, it made it! OPA!

The Greek Church bought some more land, and so the Fest was a bit larger this year–which means there was more breathing room. Ahhhh. The worst of the evening was that we forgot to bring chairs. Standing for a long time is no fun for me, but sitting on the ground makes my feet fall asleep so that wasn’t working for too long either. And walking just sucks for me these days. So I spent the evening rotating from an ambulatory state to a resting state. When it got to the point that my lower back and down all ached (four hours into the Fest), we left.
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