Another letter to Elle

Dear Elle,

I have a feeling this could be one of my last letters to you while you're in the womb. Over the last few days, I've started to feel some contractions, and I'm definitely feeling more pressure down low. The contractions haven't been consistent, and I don't really have any other signs of labor, but they've been noticeable at times. Every time I text your dad or talk to him after work, he says, "Contractions?" Apparently he's on Contraction Watch 2010.

Do I think you'll arrive any time soon? Of course not. That would be too easy. But am I starting to wonder about it? Very much so. I keep wondering if today is going to be my last day at work. (Or if today will be my last full shift of work.) A clerk at the grocery store asked me yesterday if I was going to have you in her line. (Oh, hilarious, woman.) I started calculating when I'd have to come back to work if you were born in the next week. I've started to think more about possible scenarios for when I go in to labor - at the beginning of a shift, at the end of a shift, on my day off, etc. I never even considered that you might come early until a few days ago. I had always imagined you waiting right until your due date (or beyond), and that is still a strong possibility. We have our first internal exam on Tuesday, and I fully expect the doctor to tell me I haven't made any progress, and he'll see us in a week. But that doesn't stop my mind from racing!

I can't believe we've known about this pregnancy for 32 weeks. I know I've freaked out a lot about how fast time was going, but now I'm at a point where I've accepted the fact that I can't do much more to prepare for you, and no matter how much I do, there will always be more that I *think* I should have done, so I've pretty much taken the pressure off myself and thrown it all out the window. It's a very liberating feeling! I'm using any "bonus days" before you arrive to finish little stuff, work on crafts and make food to freeze so we've got a few ready-made meals after you arrive. (Your dad is very interested in the baked ziti recipe I found!)

You've been a model citizen of Wombville, and I hope your entry in to the "real world" is as anti-climatic as your time in utero has been. Today I was sitting in church and thought I felt hiccups up high, which made me worry that you had flipped, but alas, hiccups this evening have confirmed that you're still head-down, and I think you've been that way since our 34-week appointment. I seriously thought you would have flipped and made things complicated, but you've behaved quite well! (Let's make a habit of that, OK?)

I'm very, very excited to meet you, even if it means I have to go through that labor and delivery stuff and be responsible for you outside of the womb. I'm not going to lie - I'm really going to miss feeling your hiccups, kicks and rolls. I'm not all that thrilled about the prospect of working to lose my baby weight (although I do miss my regular workouts and feel a bit odd after not really dieting for 8 months - which I guess is only natural when you've been dieting pretty much your entire life). And I'm already dreading having to leave you to go back to work.

But I keep wondering what you'll look like, how big you'll be (well, we know you're going to be huge), what kind of baby you'll be (I'm pretty sure you'll be the most stubborn and sarcastic baby ever) ... and I'm focusing on getting the answers to those questions instead of the fact that none of my clothes fit, I can only wear flip flops and my back hurts almost constantly. I do, however, think you should hang out for at least another week. There's no rush to come out, I can survive too-small maternity clothes for another few days, and you're not missing much out here - there aren't even regular baseball games for the next few days. (You'll quickly learn that the baseball All-Star break can be a tremendously boring time of year.) We don't have any exciting plans for the next few days (well, we might go to the beach, but it is too hot to really spend a lot of time there). Daddy has plans next weekend, so he'd appreciate it if you arrived wayyyyy before or after a concert he is going to with one of my coworkers. (I fear if you arrive before he'll try to TAKE you to the concert.)

Some randomness at this stage in the pregnancy: My belly button is decidedly jutting out. I have some sort of strained muscle in my upper abdomen that has me gasping in pain when I get in or out of the car or on or off of the couch. I've realized that the last time I spent the night in a hospital was when *I* was born. It appears your birthstone will be the ruby (for July) or peridot (for August). Your father is a fan of rubies; I like green, so I'm a fan of peridots. At this point, according to the zodiac, you will be a Cancer or a Leo.

But seriously, all randomness aside, take your time, but know that we can't wait to meet you. It is still hard for me to grasp the concept that you're going to emerge soon and be ours. You'll go from the mysterious blob in my belly to a little person *on* my belly in a matter of seconds. And for all of the fear I have about labor, delivery, motherhood, etc., I have the same amount of excitement to finally meet and hold you.

Love,
Mom