Missionary style

I was taking out the recycling yesterday and their were two baby Mormon missionaries all free range in my neighborhood. They had a car(!) they were walking toward and asked me if I needed help. I said no, commented on the fact that they were fancy and had a car. Then they started walking toward me and I threw up my hands and said, "I was raised Mormon." They asked me why I wasn't and I said "Mostly due to my atheism." And I have to tell you, baby Mormon #1 was the one doing most of the talking. He was 18, maybe 19, and had super light, clear blue eyes. Baby Mormon #2 didn't say much, was shorter and more portly and had acne. He was also maybe 19.

Anyway, so #1 asked me all sorts of questions like: When was the last time I went to church? I thought about it for a second... it's been almost 20 years. Longer than the baby missionaries have been alive. So I realized I'm old. Thanks, Mormons.

He also asked me where I worked before I became pregnant. Awww. Baby. People still work. I'm still going to work. He also seemed surprised that I am due Thursday and was taking out the recycling. I wonder if he thought pregnant ladies just lie around like a sea otter, being pregnant and barking?

Then he asked me where I work. I told him I'm a chemist and he asked what I studied for that. I told him chemistry. He said, "That makes sense." I think #2 wasn't talking because maybe he thought his buddy was super dumb?

Then he asked me if I have more of a "Scientology outlook" on life and God and whatnot. I told him Scientologists are kinda crazy. He asked me if Scientology was the Brad Pitt religion and I said, "No. It's the Tom Cruise religion." He said, "Oh! Those guys are crazy. I belong to a bit of a crazy religion, too."

So, that was my encounter with the baby Mormons. I hope I didn't ruin things for their future wives by shattering the illusion that pregnant women can do things like walk around, take out recycling, go to work at their fancy scientist jobs...

Other than that, I have a cold. I feel like I'm dying. I'm due Thursday. The baby is the size of a baby, I'm assuming.

I just googled "How to cook a baby" and some really grisly news stories popped up. I would avoid googling that, if I were you. But you can totally look at this cookbook.

I also took Chumb to the doctor yesterday. He's had perma-snot since about a week after starting daycare and he's been up late coughing. It was his first non-wellness check-up since he's been born (other than his trip to the ER). The doc said he's at a higher risk for continued febrile seizures since he's had one. But, he said right now dude just has a cold. Or several overlapping colds.

And that's about it. Keep your fingers crossed that I stop being sick before I deliver a baby. Because that would really suck to have a cold, deliver a baby, then have to handle a newborn and a toddler all while dying.

Jackfruit and a turtle on its back

I decided the beached whale idea is played out when it comes to being giant at the end of your pregnancy.  And, as established in an earlier post, I hate cliches.

I am now 40 weeks pregnant!  According to 3-D pregnancy, the baby is the size of a baby!  I'm assuming it's a rather small baby, but who knows?  Other websites say Hamburglar McCloud is now the size of a jackfruit.  Having no idea what a jackfruit is, I decided to look it up, and I came across this website that not only details where jackfruits are, but also how to prepare them from an amateur perspective.  Being an amateur myself, I like that.

I woke up the other morning at 3am with a super sharp pain in my left side that made me kind of want to die.  I'm assuming it was either a contraction or my stigmata was acting up again though, traditionally, my stigmata has been more known to effect my right side.  Or maybe I'm just dying.  As a non-medical professional, that is my best guest.

I am still working and some people are surprised by this.  I'm not uncomfortable and my job isn't physically demanding, though I have become preg-tarded and even clumsier than usual, which could be hazardous (like the other day when I spilled 500mL of concentrated hydrochloric acid all over the counter in the lab... ugh).  I also only work about 8.5 miles from my house, and my house is about 2 miles from the hospital, so it's cool.  Though I do plan to leave a bit early today so I can go get a pedicure.  I think I'm going to go baby blue in honor of my soon-to-be son.

I amused my midwife last week by talking about the paradigm shift I am currently undergoing.  I explained to her that, throughout my twenties, people were interested in my vagina mostly because they wanted to put their penis in it but being pregnant has brought to my attention the insane number of people that are interested in what is going to come out of my vagina.  That's weird to me.  And I am getting asked a lot of really dumb questions.  Like, "Are you still pregnant?"  Um... fuck you.  Are you still an idiot?  Obviously I'm still pregnant, I'm at work, asshole.  If I was having a baby or had just had a baby I would probably be napping.  Or staring at my baby thinking, "Holy shit!  What am I supposed to do with this?  What did I get myself into?"

Friends have told me newborns are easier to take care of, but it is very tiring staring at them and making sure they don't die.  I guess I will find out soon!

My cervix started doing labor-related cervix-y things today, for those of you who are curious, which is another reason to leave work early.  I'm guessing Mr. Baby will come today or tomorrow, but the internet told me I can be in pre-labor for a week or longer before shit gets real.

I have also developed a theory that the closer I get to having the baby, the harder it becomes to get out of bed.  I groan like an old man when I stand up, and it takes me what feels like an eternity to get out of bed the 300 times per night I am getting up to pee.  So that's awesome.  Sometimes, I feel like a turtle on its back and I just lay their and think about flailing my limbs about in the air, but that seems too difficult, so I don't.

Also, heartburn!  I would like it to stop already.

One of my coworkers told me a story about being downtown with his wife shortly after their second child was born and there was this 40+ week pregnant woman doing cartwheels in the park they were sitting in.  Apparently she was trying to kick-start her labor.  Hilarious!  I've never been able to do a cartwheel, so that method won't work for me, but I figure if I go to ten days past due, then I will start standing on my head, underwater, drinking raspberry leaf tea and offering lamb sacrifices to the Greek Goddess of labor and delivery or something.

Also, I found a black widow in the laundry room.  I have since been wearing shoes when doing laundry.

Guess who is finally done staining the floor in the nursery?  That's right!  Mr. Adventure!  Now he just needs to do three coats of the Waterlox polyurethane coating.  It takes 30-90 days for the floor to cure properly after the Waterlox is applied, so I'm putting Hamburglar's dresser in our room and we will move his stuff into his room just before we move him in there.  I love the stain on the floors, but I don't know if I like the way the light sage walls look with the floor now.  It makes them seem yellow.  Maybe if I change the light bulbs?  I know the baby doesn't care, but I do.  Maybe a nice tan or something would be better.  I don't know.

And my favorite pregnancy website has this to say, "Choose new, exciting names and avoid the ones that might upset your child later on."  And my partner is supposed to assure me that everything is wonderful.  All I know for sure is that I am going to be ready for roller coaster season next year and it is going to be awesome.  Dollywood, here I come!

Oh!  I wanted to share this with any of you who are pregnant.  It's this blog called Birthing Without Fear and it is amazing!  I wrote my master's thesis (in education) on education without fear or coercion, and that's what I want my birth experience to be as well, so there you go.