Cole and I visited the potential other daycare. It was… okay. I liked the provider and a lot of the parents I saw there (know them either personally or from cool stuff around town), but I didn’t like the lack of supervision, the amount of places for kids to hide, or the incredible amount of stairs. Concrete stairs. Concrete stairs that Cole nearly fell down JUST DURING OUR VISIT. So I’m torn. I’m afraid, on one hand, that I’m being overprotective, but I also know that I’ve sincerely regretted not following my gut on these things before, and I had previously vowed to myself not to make that mistake again. My gut tells me that it’s not the right fit for us.
Is awesome. But that’s nothing new. He will also SPANK you at Wii boxing, and that is new. He kicked the pants off of his daddy and his pop last weekend, something that pleased him greatly.
WOW, is this pregnancy ever different than my last. I was never in this much discomfort for this long of a time. Also, the past couple weeks have brought the joy of panicking about pre-term labor because of the amount of contractions. To be truthful, it’s only been mild panic because I haven’t lost my plug, so I know it’s not quite as imminent as it at times feels, but still… I hate sitting there and wondering if I should bug my midwife when I know it’s only practice labor.
Also new this time around: my belly button popped out. Kind of. Like, the top did a little and the rest is flat. I don’t actually think my belly button was ever deep enough to really pop out like some women’s do, but it didn’t even go this far last time.
I had to break down and buy new bras because I literally was struggling to breath, the bands were so tight on every bra. The new ones are a huge improvement. I no longer find myself with my hand down my shirt, holding my bra away from my chest to catch a breath! That’s money well spent.
I had a flash last night of what she might look like. All this time, I’ve been struggling to picture her; to picture any tiny newborn at all, including Cole. It was weird, like I had a block against remembering what any infant less than 3 months old looked like.
But, finally, I pictured her: sleeping and cuddled in a sling around my body. She was beautiful.
We have a month left, and with me not working and Cole at home, it’s going to go fast. I mean, I actually had to panic legitimately the other night when I realized that I had forgotten to order something for the birth and wasn’t sure that I could get it on time (it’s fine- it will be here in plenty of time, I’ve been assured).
And, at this point anyway, there’s nothing that I’m not looking forward to about the birth. I’ll be happy to go through it and have Roo here, but I’m equally happy having more time with Cole before that happens. Despite my discomfort, I feel amazingly good about the head-space I’m in.