So today's the day

(Allegedly. They won't start the induction until evening, so who knows. And what if we run into a problem like with Tres, where they say ha ha, never mind, no induction for you today -- call back tomorrow?)

Anyway. Supposedly Cuatro will make her debut tonight. I expect her to come quickly after things get started, as each of my previous labors has been faster than the last. I have faith that things will go smoothly.

And yet.... It's hitting me what a BIG FAT LIFE CHANGER this is. Right now? Our life is what it is. We've got a routine. Tomorrow at this time? We'll have an ENTIRELY NEW PERSON. Not just new to us, but new. In the whole history of the world, there has never been a Cuatro before and it'll be my (/our) job to take care of her and fold her into our family and fit her into our previously comfortable routine. That's a big deal! And a big responsibility.

I couldn't sleep last night. I lay awake thinking, maybe this isn't so bad with her on the inside. I'm fairly used to the GD diet restrictions by now, and I'm probably healthier for it. I eat lots of fruits and vegetables, much less processed food.... Sure, I have elephantine swollen feet, but I can live with that. I don't mind fielding random strangers' questions and dumb comments about my huge belly. Maybe Cuatro should just stay there.

I have easy labors, relative to what I understand other women go through, but I still don't like the process. It's not fun. It hurts at the end. You lose all modesty. You get no rest even after all the work is done.

That's another thing I was thinking late last night: They ought to have a half-way house for recently delivered mothers! Particularly ones with other young children. After all that work -- the nine months of nausea + exhaustion + discomfort + carrying around a bowling ball and then the tough job of getting said bowling ball out -- it would be nice to be able to rest for a few days. But where are you going to do that? Not at the hospital; they'll wake you up every few hours to poke at you. Not at home; the new baby will need to be fed every two hours or so, and in my situation there are three other little people who'll continue to have needs as well. No rest anywhere. So I propose a half-way house: Leave the hospital, go to a lovely spa-like place (with highly qualified nannies and nurses to handle the bulk of the baby care 24/7) for just a day or two to recuperate and gear up for the tough battle ahead, and then go home to face the real world with renewed vigor. Genius, right?

Yeeps.

I'm excited, really. Newborn babies are sweet. They're floppy and small and nothing bad has ever happened to them; they've never done anything bad to anyone else (unless you count the GD and elephant feet). They're perfect. They're a world of possibility wrapped up in a tiny pink package. This will be a wonderful change, however challenging the transition.

I guess maybe I should pack a hospital bag.


~RCH~