Something I love right now: Jude sings a song that begins as Jingle Bells, then morphs into Old McDonald Had a Farm about halfway through. It is a beautiful song.
This morning, I got a phone call from someone wanting to leave a message for my boss. The message: tell him that his daughter had a baby girl this morning. This struck me as strange. I realize that we aren’t best girlfriends or anything, but I would have thought that sometime in the last almost-eight months, it would have come up in conversation that his only daughter was pregnant. His response? “Does my wife know?”
The strangest part of carrying around a baby in the breech position (other than the pleasure of never, ever feeling the baby kick me in the ribs, which I understand is quite painful) is knowing exactly when said baby will come into this world. With Jude, I only knew a few weeks ahead of time, but it was comforting to know that when July 30 came, the baby would be born. No waiting. No overanalyzing every new bodily sensation, wondering if it was a sign of labor. This time should prove to be no different. Assuming that I don’t go into labor beforehand (necessitating an emergency c-section), this baby will be born on October 26. Considering that it is nearly September, that isn’t very long from now. I really should start getting ready.
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