Cranky, Me?

I am a medical anomaly. Surprised? I have five stages of labor. There's the pre-pre-pre-labor early stage where I get nice and cranky. Really cranky. I'm sorry. Sort of. I'm still happy and grateful and excited and stuff, but DUDE!!!!!!

I almost had to call for help to get out of the Mini last night. All I could think was how ironic that I needed Lifeline and I didn't have it when I needed it. I promote Lifeline to my patients like I was getting some sort of cut from the proceeds. Remember that commercial? I've fallen and I can't get up!

If I wasn't what felt like a million years pregnant, I'd be wondering what in blazes and good glory was going on in my  nether regions. Since I am, I still kind of wonder but I'm told it's "normal". You all can call it whatever you want, but I'm not sure normal is the word I'd choose. Ripen. Softening. Opening. Effacing. All a bunch of terms which really mean to say, "Hang on honey, you ain't gonna like it! And no matter what your dream was, a three hour labor is not likely in your future."

I really did dream that I went into labor at 1:30am and he was born at 4:30am. I know it was me and my kid because I then remember looking down and saying, "It's a good thing you're a boy. Cuz you wouldn't make a very cute girl!" Then I woke up. For the last week when I've woken up all achy and uncomfortable I check the clock. If it's not 1:30 I know I'm not in labor.

All your 'surely to get the show on the road' suggestions don't work if you're still a week away from your due date. Not spicy food. Not walking. Not the baby dance. Nada. I know he's going to come when he's ready. My kids only show up when they are good and ready. It's not the same if they don't take their mother to the brink of losing her ever lovin' mind!

At Chipotle last night the girl at the counter asked how much longer I had. "A week. But today would be good." She then proceeded to tell me she had a baby four months ago and that she was eight days late and still needed a C-section. I wanted to hug her and soccer-punch her all the same time for sharing. Just give me my meal and don't talk to me is my general rule when out to eat. I use to wait tables, your tip is safe.

I probably need to apologize to the couple of people who have offered to help me in some way by suggesting they get it so I don't have to get up and walk. I've snarkily responded with, "Why? Cuz I might go into labor? Kind of what I'm going for here." Gap girl I'm sorry. I was mostly just frustrated that you had an additional 30% off your clearance merchandise and I didn't know what size to buy. Coming home (almost) empty handed from a sale like that would make any girl a little testy.