Tuesday, February 21, 2012

I am large, I contain multitudes.

And they WILL NOT GET THE HELL OUT.

Today is my due date. When I do manage to haul my magnificent ass off the sofa, it's like March of the Penguins over here. I have eaten semi-ripe papayas and the equivalent of maybe five pineapples, I have made some exquisite eggplant parm, I have wandered all over town and done squats and tried all that other stuff they suggest too. Nothing.

My parents are in town from halfway across the continent, wasting their money while they wait. Friends and relatives keep calling and emailing. If they have a sense of humor I direct them to "this site I'm using to track my progress, it's called haveyouhadthatbabyyet.com", but the kind of relatives who keep at you about this sort of thing are the kind of relatives who wouldn't think that's funny, so lots of chirpy "Nope, not yet! :)" responses are in order. Blerg. Meanwhile I get more uncomfortable and more twitchy and my hospital refuses to induce till you're two weeks overdue, and no I HAVE NOT HAD THAT BABY YET STOP ASKING.

The more this goes on, the more I don't even know why I got myself into this mess. My snarky, no-nonsense BFF back home, who I may have casually mentioned months and months ago is a few weeks ahead of me pregnancy-wise, went about a week early, and for the past few weeks she's cooing over her own teeny little poop machine and talking like a diaper-changing vet and saying stuff like "I had NO IDEA I could love anything THIS MUCH." Several years (and one asshole ex) ago she was saying she never wanted children. And as much as I fear getting shot in the head with the Alien Mom Ray, I'm especially terrified of NOT getting shot in the head with the Alien Mom Ray. What if this magical oxytocin-induced crazy baby love thing that's supposed to hit you immediately... doesn't hit me? What if I look at the Wee Baby Seamus and all I can muster is the same emotion I usually feel for babies? (Which is "Huh.") And what about postpartum depression - what if I get it? And am I REALLY all right with spending the next decade or so only eating at restaurants with placemats you can color on?

I don't know if I really thought this through.

Ah well. The point is moot anyway, because obviously I'm never actually going to HAVE a baby. I'm just going to be pregnant for the rest of my life.

No comments:

Post a Comment