I spoke to my brother on the phone a few weeks ago. We see each other a couple of times a year, but never call each other, so it was unusual, but a nice surprise when he called. We chitchatted for a while, even about some things beside the baby, but the baby does have a way of making itself topic #1. During our talk, my brother likened a pregnant woman’s bellybutton to a turkey timer. I thought that was funny then. Now I think it’s almost a little scary, because if it’s true, then this turkey is just about done.
My own foolish talk has got everyone thinking that the baby is going to be born early. At the shower, I said that I felt like I was so big that I wouldn’t make it all the way to my due date. My mother latched on to that idea. She called me earlier this week because she thought I had a doctor’s appointment and wanted to know if the doctor had said anything about the baby coming early. Now my husband’s getting in on it, too. After admiring my belly out in the full sunlight, he said, “There’s no way you’re going to carry that for another 4 weeks!”
I am carrying large, it’s true, but I don’t know that there’s any statistical link between carrying large and early childbirth, except maybe in the case of twins. Knowing my luck, I’ll have to carry him an extra two weeks, which would bring us into the hot months of July. Eesh. Well, it’s not like it’s my call. I’ll just have to wait and see what happens. I just hope he’s born healthy, that’s all.
It’s become a conspiracy. I was waiting in line at a store when the woman in front of me asked, “When are you due.” I told her the end of June and she said, “You look ready now.”
I do. I do look ready, but I’m not ready mentally, and the nursery’s not ready, and my husband’s not ready. We’re not ready!!!!!