Alas, I went the pregnancy route. But guess what? My baby is full term. You know what that means? GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!!! I have been ready for my bundle of joy for months and months, and I am SOOO ready to not be pregnant that it is not even funny.
This is the conversation I've been having with the baby lately: "Oh, you're all done cooking? And you can survive outside of my womb? And you are slowly killing me instead of coming out? And we have all the essentials for raising you all ready to go? You know what that means? GET OUT!!!"
The thing is, Jeremy is TERRIFIED of the baby coming even one second before her 40-week mark. Seriously. And he is mad at me for wanting her out. He even thinks I am hurting her by wishing her out. Do you know what he DOESN'T know? That my entire day consists of furiously nesting, crying, sleeping, crying, and crying in my sleep. He was also not there when the doctor told me the baby was SOO ready to go and was already on the very large side, and if I wanted to try to persuade her to come out, I could do so. And apparently he doesn't know how bad it is to tell a pregnant Veronica her business.
Today he called me on his lunch break, and I was trying to figure out what I could do to help her want to come out.
Me: I am figuring that she will want to come at the most inconvenient time possible, so if I DON'T pack the hospital bag and I DON'T grade these papers, maybe I will go into labor!!
Jeremy: Umm, probably not. She will probably come when she's ready, and I don't think she's ready yet.
Me: Oh, really? You don't think she's ready? Well, I am ready. And the BOOKS say she is ready. And the DOCTORS say she is ready.
Jeremy: I'm just saying, she will come on her own time.
Me: Well, for your sake, I sure hope that is soon, because I am just going to get worse and worse every single day, and YOU are the one who has to live with me.
Me: Really what?
Jeremy: This could get worse?
Me: You bet your sweet ass it can. And it will. Oh, it WILL.
Me: That's what I thought.
This is going up TONIGHT: