Coming to the Finale

I’m sitting here looking at the last day of pregnancy, only 8 hours away from induction, and 20(?) hours (hopefully much less) away from a new baby. I’m conscious that these are my last moments of pregnancy and I’m trying to take in all these things and store them away in my memory.

On the other hand, I just want to get this show on the road. I’m so ready. At 3 cms dilated and 75% effaced as of two days ago, the baby is ready. We’re ready. I want to bring on the next chapter. I want to meet the Grand Finale. I am DYING to know what she looks like and to see if she looks like her sisters.

I have a couple of random thoughts running through my head that I wanted to get down for posterity.

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I am nested out. There’s been so much cooking, baking, organizing, decorating, cleaning and errand running over the last four weeks, and I am just done. Two days ago I thought it would be lovely to make a potato soup and caramel apple dessert, and then I ran errands for two days and I decided that it would be even lovelier if someone just brought that to me. Because I am D-O-N-E. I don’t want to run another errand for at least 3 weeks.

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First and foremost, I’m reminded again of how surreal it is to know the day your baby will be born. With Monkey, it was simultaneously agonizing and thrilling because there was no induction date and every day I woke up wondering, “Will today be the day?”

Both Bean and Grand Finale were/are scheduled inductions. Not that they couldn’t have come earlier. They just didn’t/haven’t. Receiving an automated email reminder for Grand Finale’s scheduled induction date was like receiving a vacation confirmation email. Checking into the hospital for Bean’s induction was like checking into a hotel — carrying our two duffle bags and laptop bag. I’m assuming I’ll feel the same way tomorrow, only with the addition of a special breastfeeding pillow. It’s very surreal to be so acutely aware of one day being without baby and the next day being with baby. I like to quote Heidi Klum when it comes to birth: “One day you’re in. And the next day … you’re out.”

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I’m super excited for an Autumn baby. I LOVE fall. I love the change of seasons. I guess spring is my favorite season, but fall is a close second. With the addition of Grand Finale we’ll have a spring, a winter and a fall baby.

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Choosing a third baby girl name almost broke me. I think we went back to the drawing board at least three times. And by “we” I mean “me.” Naturally, Husband was of absolutely zero help, except to tell me what anatomy part every single name reminded him of when I threw out a suggestion. He gave exactly one name suggestion, and it happened to be the same name as the town we live. Whuck?? As of right now, we have two “top” names and we’re 95% sure of what we’re going to choose, but we just want to meet her first. Naming humans is haaaard.

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Random factoid: According to my midwife, once you have a big baby (Bean was 9lbs 6 oz), you have the luxury of an “extra large” uterus, giving the baby more room to grow even bigger the next time. Funzies!

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And we just couldn’t end this pregnancy without veering into a little grossness one more time … regarding all of the peeing in the cup. You would think that after nearly 34 years of owning my equipment, I would have a better idea of how exactly to get the pee in the cup. Especially when I’m getting so much practice at it. Secondly, you would think that someone, somewhere would have invented a better way to get the pee in the cup. Thirdly, I don’t know about you ladies, but I know what I’m thinking when I see a trashed, wet bathroom where women are leaving their “samples” all day long. Groooooss. I just don’t even want to touch anything. And finally, how many times have you written out all your info on the cup (your name, doctor’s name, date and time), only to walk over the toilet and *almost* start going without it. Nearly every.single.time.

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Cheers to the next chapter. See you on the other side.