Awake at 2:00 AM

Restless Sleepers
This morning, I opened my eyes around 2:00 am and saw a light in the hallway and realized Patrick wasn't in bed next to me. This surprised me, especially when he didn't return for awhile. When he did return, he didn't come back to bed but instead let me know (once he knew I was awake) that he had decided to go into work before classes instead of after classes because he hadn't been able to fall back asleep. After he left, neither could I. Really, though, we both had a restless night even before that.

Yesterday was the baby's "unadjusted-adjusted due date." By this I mean that the doctor told us after the ultrasound that the baby was a little more developed that we had thought, so he could be considered to be due on the 2nd. However, they don't adjust the due date when it's only a four day change. But we're at the point where we're not just wishfully hoping; the baby is due this week (as opposed to the 18th, when he really wasn't due anyway).

September 2nd
So I have had some emotional times during this pregnancy. There have been the general times when I felt slighted by Patrick when he was just lost in his own thoughts or was unintentionally sharp with me. They didn't last long because he'd smooth it over or I'd realize I was being silly and would just wait it out.

Then there was the time when we were planning to take a nap, but Patrick was feeling playful so he stole all the covers except for a corner that he let me keep. After stealing all the covers, he decided it would be funny to pretend he was falling off the bed, so he was pulling on the covers and the little bit he had allotted me was all that was holding him up. "Save me! Save me!" He cried dramatically. At first, I did. It was grudging, but I did hold him up with the bit of covers that I had. Then, it occurred to me that if I let go he would fall, and in the same second I had that thought, I followed through on the impulse and he fell with a thud to the floor. He was taken so much by surprise, and I think I was even taken so much by surprise that I started laughing until tears were flowing. And Patrick's head popped up and he just sat there half-glaring/half-laughing at me and I just kept laughing and I couldn't stop . . . until suddenly I was crying. And Patrick was there on the floor still thinking I was laughing and starting to tease me when I said, "I'm not laughing. I'm crying." And he was taken by surprise again and he came and held me, and said, "I really thought you were laughing." And I had to explain that I had been laughing and it had been very funny, but then I had started to cry and didn't even know why.

However, other than that (which happened several months ago now), I have been pretty steady emotionally without too much drama. Until yesterday. Yesterday, I called the doctor's office to make the weekly appointment. We hadn't made it at the last appointment because Patrick hadn't been certain of his class schedule yet. The conversation went like this:

Receptionist: "Can I have your phone number?"
Me: [Gave it]
Receptionist: "And what kind of appointment is this?"
Me: "Just the weekly check-up."
Receptionist: "Have you delivered yet, Keegan?"
Me: "No. I wish."
(Feeling slightly uncomfortable, though the reason didn't register until Patrick asked later, "Don't they have records about that sort of thing?")
Receptionist: [laughed] Well these are the times that we have this week. [Gave two times.]
Me: [Looking desperately at Patrick's schedule.] Neither of those times work.
Receptionist: [Matter-of-factly] "Well, you need to be seen this week."
Me: [Feeling frustrated and wishing that I could just be seen at the hospital delivering a baby.] "Well, let me work out my schedule and call you back."

I then called Patrick and he advised me to ask them to double-book, and I just started crying and couldn't stop. Poor Patrick couldn't come to my office, so he asks me if I'm all right, and I'm trying to explain that I'm okay and I don't know what's wrong while also trying to get off the phone so I don't draw the attention of my co-workers. Later, when he had a decent break, he did come to my office and called the receptionist back. The one other time she offered still wasn't very good for him. He explained that we'd like him to be able to come, and she said that was all she had, and I felt self-conscious for not wanting to go alone even though there are often unaccompanied women at the OB. In any case, he made the appointment. At this point, we called my mom and asked her to come out on Thursday so she could go with me to the doctor's appointment and she (happy to have some direction and a plan) complied and bought a ticket. After which, Patrick realized he probably could make it to the appointment on time because, after all, the appointments almost always run late and so he would be able to be there if they're consistent with the precedent they've set so far. (FYI, I like this doctor and his office well enough, so if I don't sound full of praise it's just the residue of yesterday's emotions.)

Between my wild emotions and now having a plan for my mom to come on Thursday, I think we all expected that the baby would make his appearance last night, and perhaps that explains our restlessness. He didn't come after all of course, so we're still waiting.

Our Comparative Feelings
For me, waiting is the worst thing about the situation. If I knew with a certainty that he isn't coming for four more days or even a week, I could at least go about my life until that point without the question "Will he come today? Now? Now? Now? Tonight? Tomorrow?" constantly going off in my mind. But biology being what it is, that question is always there . . . and it's awful. As I have said, the pregnancy is great and I feel amazingly well for a nine-month pregnant woman. However, feeling like a bomb about to explode without warning is not my idea of a comfortable way to live one's life no matter how healthy one feels otherwise. Anytime I go out, I wonder if my water will break (particularly since I still haven't had contractions) or if I will start having contractions in some public place when Patrick's not around. As for the water breaking, Patrick thinks it would be preferable if it happened in a public place so he didn't have to clean it up. I have explained that this would be more awkward for me. We told my mom about the situation and she said she had heard of a story of a woman whose water broke in a grocery store aisle, so she had grabbed a jar of pickles and broken it on the floor to cover it up. Patrick thought this a great way to make us both happy, so when we went to see Ironman on Monday, he had plans to go buy a soda and spill it to cover for me if the necessity arose.

As for Patrick, yesterday when he got home from work we were talking and he said, "Do you know in a couple of days I'm going to be a dad?" And he voice was full of awe. He explained, "So far the baby is just you. You're the one going through all the changes, and I feel your stomach to feel him move. Once he's out, then we're going to be parents. I'm not sure I'm ready for that." And that makes sense to me. Biologically, my body has been building to delivery, but nothing like that happens to him. For me, there is no going back and certainly no staying where I am. There is just delivering and having a baby and being able to feel his arms and legs directly on my fingers instead of kicking around inside of me. For Patrick, his environment has changed somewhat, our discussions have changed somewhat, but his body isn't the one acting as a catalyst to the change; mine is. Mine is the one with the watermelon-shaped bump that wiggles in the night. I can't escape the baby inside of me, so it isn't as frightening (even though I don't exactly feel qualified) to consider having him outside of me. But for Patrick, he has to make a conscious effort to be part of the baby during the pregnancy; to feel him moving, for instance, he has to actually touch me. It's not until the baby actually comes out that he can't escape.

It's interesting to consider the different experiences we're having. It struck me particularly yesterday when a friend told me that she was going to name her child whatever she wanted when she got married and had a baby because she was the one who had to go through all the crazy changes. And I thought, "You say that now, but once you are married and having a baby, reality will tell you that you better involve your husband in every way that you can, or you will regret shutting him out." And reality will also say that it's not really all that fun to do it all by yourself anyway, so you'll want to involve him, for that matter, in every way that you can. That only occurred to me now, but it's definitely true.

In any case, even though I'm not sure I'm "ready" to be a parent either, I think we'll be a good team, and I think we'll figure it out. We're fortunate to know an awful lot of good parents and we've had a lot of discussions about what we think we ought to do and would like to do in theory. Even though theory may not always translate into reality, I still think it helps to discuss it. And there isn't anyone else I'd rather figure it out with than the person I've got, whether we're "ready" or not.