Thursday, April 05, 2007

 

In Which We Begin the Countdown...

This morning, half-past the crack of dawn, I came downstairs to find Her Lovely Enormously Pregnant Self thrashing and moaning on the couch. Her belly was hard as a rock.

"It's just gas pains," she huffed.

Gas pains that were 9 minutes apart.



Then 7 minutes apart.



Then 5.



(oh fuck)




Then...back up to 7 minutes.



Then 8.

Then 10. Then...gone.

(oh thank you god and sonny jesus cos it's just a little too soon thank you just another three weeks or even two please oh pretty please)

Well I was one nervous wreck, let me tell you. I wasn't going to go to work, until two of the Yummy Mummies from next door and across the street promised to look in regularly and deliver HLEPS to the hospital, if such delivery was called for (oh, and call me too). And anyway, HLEPS made it nakedly clear that she didn't want me hovering around her all day.

"I'm hosting the book club tonight and I have a lot to get done," she said as I pulled her off the couch.

"What?!?" I shrieked in such an incredulously high pitch that Blaze yelped. When it comes to hosting book club, my wife doesn't just crack a bottle of wine and lay out some Ritz and a couple of cans of cheese spray. She makes nibbly bits. Five kinds of them. From scratch. It's an afternoon of bending over a hot stove. And she already has something in the oven that she's working on, you know?

"You are NOT hosting book club!" I said, putting on the voice of The Man.

She just laughed and hugged me around the waist--as far as she could reach, anyway--and waddled off into the kitchen.

"I'm serious!" I said.

"Okay, okay," she said.

But do you think she listened to The Man?

Put it this way: It's 14 hours later, and as I type, I can hear the muffled laughter of eight women talking about Shopaholic & Baby.

Me? I'm upstairs in the guest room watching war movies and eating a supper of Nibbly Bits That Didn't Quite Work Out.

And I think I'm having gas pains.

Yours,
From Somewhere on the Masthead


Comments:
MM, if it's any comfort, Bobbie came 4 weeks early, and he's an absolute tank of a boy--healthy as a horse strong as an ox and all that. So, don't worry too hard. HLS knows her limist; she can feel them. Don't stress.
 
Good luck going down the stretch, MM. Nibbly Bits....yummy.
 
for your sake, i'll be praying that bun stays in the oven a little longer!
 
I need to get finished with those booties! Um... and started. I don't know if HLS will have any of the same reactions I did, but this is the time in my pregnancies when I started to alternately hope for labor rightthisveryminute and just want a few days more to get things done. And Naiah's right, HLS will know if she needs to take a break.
 
I'm so excited for you!! Have you told us the sex yet? Do YOU even know? Are you hiding it from us??
 
How are Thomas and The Brownie handling all of this? With grace and aplomb, no doubt, but just wondering.
 
I sympathize (and, possibly, may even be able to correctly use the word empathize), since my wife is due next week and is currently planning on executing an Easter brunch and dinner for this Sunday.
Actually, there is a small part of me that hopes Baby Endangered Coffee shows early so we can deep-six the whole shindig.
 
You crack me up.ht
 
It's odd to be excited about the arrival of a baby I will never meet..and the parents I never knew..but i am excited! Maybe an Easter Baby!! Good luck. I have my fingers crossed...make sure to post pictures.
 
Loved the ending of this post...
 
Woohoo! The home stretch! Have a great baby!
 
Does no news mean there's news?!?!
 
So when will you be hosting the retaliatory cigar and beer night?
 
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