Today smells like...

It's the baby's due date. Which is really just a dated target.
Two weeks ago, if I had a nickel for every:
pack your bag - mine came 2 weeks early
make sure you __________ because she can come anytime

Then the due date finally hits, and my nickels multiply:
you're so prepared - mine came 2 weeks late
you've still got time!
make sure you __________ because she can come anytime

Advice today comes as follows:
go sleep and enjoy your last bit of freedom
eat chinese
get a pedicure
walk.walk.walk.walk.
drive down a bumpy road
do squats

Sigh.
My Type A has turned this pregnancy thing into the longest road of my life.
We've had YOUR name for a decade.
The registry has been done since May, and closed since October.
YOUR room has been 80% complete since June, 90% ready since September.
We have slept. (Like, in bed by 8pm, up at 11am the following...to pass some time).
We aren't concerned about a loss of freedom - our book is about out of chapters without YOU.
We ate Chinese Saturday night.
Lil' Momma is getting a pedicure, and an oil change, and a dilation check tomorrow.
We have walked the mall and Costco and used bumpy dirt roads to get there.
She did squats tonight, until she pulled a muscle and went back to bouncing on her exercise ball.

If today were a scent, it would be Jury Duty with a hint of Home Depot Hot Dogs.

You get the Jury Summons. You anticipate the date. There is a lot of "hurry up to wait." Could be selected, could be released. Outcome unknown until it just happens. Could be a quick case, could be the OJ trial.

You know they smell better than they taste. If you give in, you'll wish you hadn't. If you walk by, you'll wish you had given in and just eaten the damn thing. Either way, you're dwelling on a hot dog.

I should be scrambling to turn this house upside down, clean it from top to bottom, and treat each passing hour as a bonus. Yet, I sit and stare or walk in circles or kick the exercise ball repeatedly against the footboard of the bed until I realize I've been doing it for 10 minutes and its obscenely obnoxious to the dog - who by the way, has stopped following me around because even he has decided my traffic patterns are exhausting.

If you were here, I'd still be useless, but at least it would be time spent staring at YOU.

mjg

I'm Not Patient

we've had your name waiting for you for over a decade.

we've always talked about you like you're just in the other room napping.

we've included you in our plans all along.

we've prepared for you.

we've laughed about you.

we've cried tears of joy over you.

we're ready, for as ready as new parents can be.

so.

when does the party start?

cuz, i'm wearing anticipation tracks in the carpet.

i say you're stubborn. your mom says you're patient.

she would say that. let's hope you're just like her.

i'm waiting, impatiently, you little stubborn.perfect.7lb peanut.

the coast is clear now.

come snuggle with me.

mjg

Education is Momentum

So, we will just take each step backward as propelling energy to take 3 steps forward.

Our love is a demonstration of education.

We're normal. What is normal anyway? It's a dumb word. Nothing is normal. Life is filled with ups and downs, and scares and triumphs, and fears and joys. And really, I've never been normal, if we must abide by definitions. Or maybe I'm totally normal, to which that can't be normal....
 Anyhow.

Autumn & I tackled having this baby head on. And educated along the way.

We picked our donor from a database while vacationing on a balcony in Hawaii.

We walked into our Fertility Dr's office and acted as if "Duh, this is what we want to do. My egg. Her body. Our child. You in, Doc?" And he said, "um, that's expensive..." And we said "So."
And so we started the process. I signed my egg over to Autumn, who is the sole owner - Because technically, I'm an egg donor, signing away rights to the egg - and, Doc had to scratch his head a few times because the paperwork wasn't written to accommodate egg donation in which the egg donor would still remain the parent.....In true M & A fashion, we smirked our way through it, and said "We'll figure it out. We always do." And with that, we taught our Doctor, anything is possible with love...and some money;)

We walked into our OB's office just like any other couple. We used the same door. We used the same sign in sheet. We're having a baby, like everyone else. I went to almost every one of Autumn's OB appts throughout pregnancy - there weren't ever many accompanying men in the waiting room with their pregnant counterparts, but whatever. ;)

We met the pediatrician last week. We walked in and introduced ourselves as a couple, so we could establish from day 1 that we come as a package deal. And of course, we wanted to know what paperwork would need to be on file so I can bring our future sniffling & sneezing peanut to their office without Autumn's consent.

This is our story. This is us. And this is how we do.
When you are confident and comfortable, in a quiet & calm way, the world around you becomes confident and comfortable too. Cool, huh?

mjg