Then that night we looked at each other and said WHOA!!!! Why do we want this baby to come a month early? I mean, I'm tired of being pregnant, and my stomach, which was flawless up until a few weeks ago is suddenly covered in angry stretch marks and itches like crazy, and I'm tired of sleeping on my side and not being able to tie my shoes or rub lotion on my legs. But as One of His Moms put it, there are many, many reasons to not wish this baby out early, and to enjoy the quiet and peace of these last few weeks.
But here's the thing: my beloved ob/gyn is going to be out of town precisely during the end of my 38th/the beginning of my 39th week, which is also a full moon, which is when all. the. babies. are. born. DUH!!!!!!! So I either need to get her out of here early, or try to keep her in late.
So I'm walking, and drinking my rasberry leaf tea (which I really like, so no sacrifice there), and trying to keep the house clean, and buying last minute things for baby, (like that thing that pulls snot out of their noses) but I'm also finishing up my book: methodically tightening up chapters, rewriting intros and conclusions, deleting overly-emphatic italics, and adding in juicy bits (read incredibly catty, bitchy excerpts from letters--my research subject was a TERROR) from my archival research last summer. Today I'm going to try to fold in an amazing, anonymous tell-all from one of my person's personal secretaries. It makes Madonna look like a fun person to work for.
You want to know a secret? The real highlight of my day is waiting for UPS to deliver our hers and slightly-more-masculine hers diaper bags. Seriously. I can't wait. Mine is made from 10 recycled water bottles, so I'm feeling pretty smug about it. Hers has flames on it.
The biggest news of today is that we're finally sending in our second parent adoption papers. Unlike many other states, Illinois doesn't require me to surrender my parental rights so that my partner can adopt. They handle it like a step-parent adoption. And as of two years ago, they got rid of the mandatory (and expensive) series of home visits from a social worker. We had to wait, first, until we had enough money to cover the lawyer's check, and then for me to dig up my DIVORCE papers (when will my former life as a married Mormon housewife stop haunting me?), but I've got 'em, and we've got the check, and so that puppy goes in the mail today.
Here's a picture of me two weeks ago, before the attack of the stretch marks. Some of the many, wonderful lesbian mothers-to-be that I read have been dutifully posting belly shots, but I've been too lazy. So here goes: