There are only three weeks left in my pregnancy. Three weeks. Wow. Hard to believe in three weeks or less (!) I'll be the proud mama of another bouncing baby Chicky. Let's see, are we ready for the addition of another little person?
Braxton Hicks - Check
Lightening - Check, sort of. Not much room there to begin with.
Dilated - Check, though not much yet. We'll see how much more after that last round of BH contractions I had the other night at my OB appointment on Monday.
Bag packed for the hospital - Um, no.
Baby room finished - Uh uh.
Arrangements for dog care made - Shoot, forgot about that. Not yet.
Super special gift(s) I was going to purchase for Chicky to let her know Mama and Daddy love her very much - Crap! Nope.
Co-Sleeper - Purchased and set up but no sheets on it yet. I think the cat's been sleeping in it.
Recently purchased newborn outfit washed in special infant friendly detergent, folded lovingly and ready to go into bag for trip home from the hospital - Still sitting in the laundry basket with other newborn clothes that still need to be washed. Keep waiting for it to walk up to the washer and jump in all on its own but it's JUST NOT HAPPENING.
Name for the baby - BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Okay, so we're not exactly ready in the traditional sense, but this baby is coming whether or not there are shades installed in the nursery (there aren't) or if the baby seat is installed in the car (ditto) or even if we're prepared mentally (do you really have to ask?).
I'm a bit overwhelmed by it all. I still have every day life to live, after all. Just the basic care and feeding of Chicky is enough to drive me to the couch with a bottle of Tylenol and a heating pad.
And then there's the anticipation.
Mr. C asked me last night if I was more nervous when I was anticipating Chicky's arrival or this time and I said, unequivocally, this time. With Chicky, I was fearful of the unknown but sometimes ignorance is bliss. This time I know what to expect. And let me tell you, after having a newborn like Chicky who was colicky and unable to sleep on her own, a baby who hated to be held by any other person except me, and who didn't take to breastfeeding easily but wouldn't take a bottle either, I'm still a bit twitchy about going through it again.
It will be easier this time, I keep telling myself. Others tell me that too. Lightning doesn't strike twice. The second one is easier because you've been there, done that, and bought the damn t-shirt. But still...
I can't help but think that my hesitation to tie up loose ends as far as the new baby coming is concerned is my subconscious telling me to Run! Run for your life! In the name of all that is good and holy, Woman, run while you still can!
But have you ever seen a 9 month pregnant woman run? High comedy but not much progress.
Suppose I should at least start working on that hospital bag.
Your suggestions for baby names have really helped. No, really. Mr. C and I have had a great time pouring over the comments and adding the names we like to our own list. We've gone from one name to six or seven now, which doesn't really seem like a big help now that I think about it.
Some wonderful women are throwing myself, Her Bad Mother, and Mrs. Chicken a virtual baby shower. There are prizes to be won, people! And a children's charity! All the fun and none of the stupid party games or useless party favors! And definitely no stupid bow hat.
Go on over there and check it out. Don't make me get off this couch and chase you over or there will be hell to pay. Getting off the couch is a 10 step process, minimum, but don't think I won't do it and don't think I won't catch you. I can waddle as fast as anyone.