Stepping into the funny pages
Wednesday, Aug. 16:
Today, I meet with my first-choice doula and talk with her for an hour at her office. She's so nice. She's experienced. And she has a cute haircut. We make it official: she's going to be my doula in a matter of weeks.
gulp
She asks what my mother's labors were like. Funny, because my mother just told me on her recent visit: six hours for my sister (her first child) and 54 minutes with me. Our brother came later and took eight hours, but this isn't surprising, seeing as he's 30 years old and still in college sleeping on Spiderman sheets. (He's into drawing comic strips.) The doula points out my reddish hair and says people with red hair tend to go quickly through labor. (Have you ever heard this?) I admit my hair isn't that red anymore -- hasn't been since I was probably eight years old -- sunshine can coax it out. But she smiles and says, "You're going to be my little red-haired girl."
OK, Charlie Brown, the doula. Let's have a six-hour labor.
Heck, I'd even take eight hours if I knew the child wouldn't end up quoting, "My spider sense is tingling."
What a comic-rific day....
Then I meet my friend Star at lunchtime to compare pregnancy notes and catch up.
And now for my next trick: finishing the baby's room (the floor is bare concrete right now, neither the crib nor the baby hammock has been assembled and the dresser JP picked up still has to be sanded and varnished one last time in addition to having the drawer pulls screwed on), finishing evaluating another author's manuscript for my publisher, finishing writing shower thank-you notes, getting the baby's car seat checked and cleaning the carpets. And there's probably something else in there I'm supposed to do, too....
Today, I meet with my first-choice doula and talk with her for an hour at her office. She's so nice. She's experienced. And she has a cute haircut. We make it official: she's going to be my doula in a matter of weeks.
gulp
She asks what my mother's labors were like. Funny, because my mother just told me on her recent visit: six hours for my sister (her first child) and 54 minutes with me. Our brother came later and took eight hours, but this isn't surprising, seeing as he's 30 years old and still in college sleeping on Spiderman sheets. (He's into drawing comic strips.) The doula points out my reddish hair and says people with red hair tend to go quickly through labor. (Have you ever heard this?) I admit my hair isn't that red anymore -- hasn't been since I was probably eight years old -- sunshine can coax it out. But she smiles and says, "You're going to be my little red-haired girl."
OK, Charlie Brown, the doula. Let's have a six-hour labor.
Heck, I'd even take eight hours if I knew the child wouldn't end up quoting, "My spider sense is tingling."
What a comic-rific day....
Then I meet my friend Star at lunchtime to compare pregnancy notes and catch up.
And now for my next trick: finishing the baby's room (the floor is bare concrete right now, neither the crib nor the baby hammock has been assembled and the dresser JP picked up still has to be sanded and varnished one last time in addition to having the drawer pulls screwed on), finishing evaluating another author's manuscript for my publisher, finishing writing shower thank-you notes, getting the baby's car seat checked and cleaning the carpets. And there's probably something else in there I'm supposed to do, too....
posted by Damselfly at 3:44 PM
2 Comments:
Good luck finishing the nursery!
My daughter's room (she's 1 year tomorrow!) wasn't officially "finished" until she was about 8 months old. Finished, meaning all her shelves were put up, all her photos were hung on the wall, freeing up space on her toy shelf for actual toys.
Her furniture didn't even arrive until less than 1 week before she was born!
It's amazing how busy you get in that last month, the month you need to rest most, especially before the baby comes.
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