Last night our glider was delivered and it was the last of the Big Nursery Items we were waiting on in order to finally put that room of his together. While Mike tackled the dresser, I assembled the glider and I think that feat -- assembling a piece of bulky furniture a week before my due date -- should buy me at least one pair of shoes after our boy's arrival next week.
So, his room is just about done. (Full set at flickr.)
This is the view from the door, and I think it can be said no glider has ever been assembled so well, don't you agree?
His dresser. The walls are especially blinding in these photos, I know, but we have a few more pieces of art to add to them along with some shelves and hanging photos that I think will break up the white fairly well. We also have to replace the light bulbs in the room, and I think that'll dull the brightness a bit. Finally, we have this rug coming and that's a very good thing as Molly has nowhere to lie down in his room as of now and that's just not acceptable. She needs a napping place in each room of the house or we all suffer.
His bookcase. For a long time now -- way before we ever got pregnant -- I had visions of a bookcase in my baby's room. One of my favorite memories of my own mother is being read to by her, and I'd love for my son to have fond memories of us reading together, as well.
In other news, I had my second-to-last doctor's appointment this morning and all looks fine. We do have an induction date set for this coming Thursday (2/5), which is a couple days before my due date but was thought the best plan by both my doctor and myself. By the looks of things, though, he really could come at any moment. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that, that I could go into labor as I eat my dinner tonight or possibly tomorrow afternoon, while we're out picking up some last-minute things at Babies R Us. Throughout this whole process there was always time to freak out about things later and, well, we're running out of time to put off the worrying so, would you look at that, I've begun freaking out just a little bit about labor and delivery and coughtearingcough and also about bringing him home and, you know, CARING FOR HIM FOREVER AND EVER. I think my fears are all very much in the realm of normal and no matter how many well-intentioned mothers go on and on about their easy labors, it's still normal to be afraid. I do want to say -- and I'm shocked I haven't said it before now -- that I have an incredible doctor, a doctor who listened to me when I told her I thought something was wrong with my ovulation, a doctor who fought for me, who did what was best for me, which isn't necessarily what's best for the average woman. I hate unasked for advice -- just loathe it -- but the one thing I want to say to every woman who may be considering children one day: find a doctor you trust. My normal fears about labor are just that, normal fears, but I think I'd be much more terrified if I didn't believe my doctor has my son's best interests at heart.
I'm also trying to remember every moment of these last few days because things will never be this way again, I know. It won't ever be just Mike, me and our needy dog and although this is the change we most want, it's still goodbye to a life that has been very good to us, a life that we're very happy with.
It's also a goodbye of sorts to a long, complicated relationship with sweets. Even though I have been insanely sick this pregnancy -- because of regular, old-fashioned nausea and also because of acid reflux, a condition straight from the devil -- I've also craved sweets more than I ever have in my life. I like chocolate as much as the next girl, sure, but I have always leaned toward food you could order at a bar or a ballgame. But, throughout this pregnancy, I've ordered dessert more than ever before and come next week, that has just got to stop. I will miss all those chocolate cakes and cupcakes and slices of pie -- oh will I -- but I just can't go on eating ALL THAT SUGAR and expect to ever use the Banana Republic gift card that's been gathering dust in my purse since last May. Unless Banana Republic has started fashioning clothes for hippo-like bodies.
So, six days or so. Whoa, has the time flown right by. I couldn't begin to believe it, really. I think I'll go sit in my perfectly-assembled glider, eat some cookies and think about how incredible all this really is.
His bookcase. For a long time now -- way before we ever got pregnant -- I had visions of a bookcase in my baby's room. One of my favorite memories of my own mother is being read to by her, and I'd love for my son to have fond memories of us reading together, as well.
In other news, I had my second-to-last doctor's appointment this morning and all looks fine. We do have an induction date set for this coming Thursday (2/5), which is a couple days before my due date but was thought the best plan by both my doctor and myself. By the looks of things, though, he really could come at any moment. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that, that I could go into labor as I eat my dinner tonight or possibly tomorrow afternoon, while we're out picking up some last-minute things at Babies R Us. Throughout this whole process there was always time to freak out about things later and, well, we're running out of time to put off the worrying so, would you look at that, I've begun freaking out just a little bit about labor and delivery and coughtearingcough and also about bringing him home and, you know, CARING FOR HIM FOREVER AND EVER. I think my fears are all very much in the realm of normal and no matter how many well-intentioned mothers go on and on about their easy labors, it's still normal to be afraid. I do want to say -- and I'm shocked I haven't said it before now -- that I have an incredible doctor, a doctor who listened to me when I told her I thought something was wrong with my ovulation, a doctor who fought for me, who did what was best for me, which isn't necessarily what's best for the average woman. I hate unasked for advice -- just loathe it -- but the one thing I want to say to every woman who may be considering children one day: find a doctor you trust. My normal fears about labor are just that, normal fears, but I think I'd be much more terrified if I didn't believe my doctor has my son's best interests at heart.
I'm also trying to remember every moment of these last few days because things will never be this way again, I know. It won't ever be just Mike, me and our needy dog and although this is the change we most want, it's still goodbye to a life that has been very good to us, a life that we're very happy with.
It's also a goodbye of sorts to a long, complicated relationship with sweets. Even though I have been insanely sick this pregnancy -- because of regular, old-fashioned nausea and also because of acid reflux, a condition straight from the devil -- I've also craved sweets more than I ever have in my life. I like chocolate as much as the next girl, sure, but I have always leaned toward food you could order at a bar or a ballgame. But, throughout this pregnancy, I've ordered dessert more than ever before and come next week, that has just got to stop. I will miss all those chocolate cakes and cupcakes and slices of pie -- oh will I -- but I just can't go on eating ALL THAT SUGAR and expect to ever use the Banana Republic gift card that's been gathering dust in my purse since last May. Unless Banana Republic has started fashioning clothes for hippo-like bodies.
So, six days or so. Whoa, has the time flown right by. I couldn't begin to believe it, really. I think I'll go sit in my perfectly-assembled glider, eat some cookies and think about how incredible all this really is.