If you’re pregnant, have ever been pregnant, or are possibly partnered to a pregnant woman right now…go read this article be made a better person because of it. Amalah treats the top of S-E-X while pregnant with the same humor she does everything. Some of my favorite parts:

And then there’s the bloody LOGISTICS. Your favorite positions might not work anymore, and trying to find comfortable alternatives can feel a bit like playing Tetris.

and

(And by “it” I mean O-R-G-A-S-M-S and can you tell that I don’t write about sex that much? I am a delicate little flower. Painted by Georgia O’Keefe. You know. The ones that look like V-A-G-I-N-A-S.)

And the best not-sex-related part? How she figured out how to paint her toenails without her belly getting in the way. BRILLIANT. Who needs a husband when you have STAIRS. You must go read it for yourself.

I remembered while unsuccessfully searching for several of NikkiZ’s birth photos on flickr, that I didn’t use flickr yet when NikkiZ was born. How did I survive without flickr? Who knows. Either way – I thought I’d upload a few more as I think back to the day she was born, looking for some sort of reference for tomorrow. Then I realized that everyone would think they were pictures of AndyZ so I made them “private” until AFTER AndyZ gets here. Then, we can compare the two when we finally post some of her brother. Who will be here TOMORROW. HOLY SHIT.

When I went in for my last cervix check yesterday (Still closed! AndyZ is going to be in for a surprise tomorrow!) Dr. SoNice said, “So…want anything done to your tubes while I’m in there?” I thought about asking for a little sprucing up, add some ribbons or glitter or something. But, since we had considered getting them tied up for awhile, I figured that was probably more of what he was referring to. So I politely declined any modifications and just said, “No thank you.” I mean, it was nice of him to offer.

Today is the last day to get my pre-baby prep done. I dropped our comforter off at the dry-cleaners and ran to the bank yesterday. Today I have to take LilZ to get his haircut and pack NikkiZ to spend 3 nights at her Mimi and Dampaw’s house. I feel the same thing I’ve felt with my other two kids: HOW IN THE HELL AM I READY FOR THIS? And since I don’t think there’s anything I can do to actually get ready, I’m going to busy myself with the mundane. Maybe if I vacuum ONE MORE TIME, then I’ll feel ready to add another kid to my brood. Right? It does work that way…Right?

No? Oh well. Then I guess I’ll just veg out with a bag of chips and the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly. If I can’t prepare, I might as well take advantage of my last few hours of slovenly living before this other human demands to be sustained. Am I right?

LilZ was born a million years ago when I was a very naive teenager who didn’t realize her memory would fade with the years. In other words? I have very little memory of the birth process itself. I mean – he came out the normal way after 17+ hours of labor – that much I remember. But the details and the feelings? Have kinda faded. Too bad I wasn’t blogging then.

NikkiZ, while more recent, is still just as faded. If not more so. If you were around here during that time, you know I did a series of blog posts (first one here) doing a play-by-play of the induction process. Up until things went horribly awry and I ended up being wheeled into the OR while crying for my husband fearing for our daughter’s life. IT WAS AWESOME. But – the point? I had been up all night (blogging…of course) and then was cut open and operated on and doped up with morphine. It created quite a haze for my daughter to be born into and I remember very little of it. I read the entries and the birth story and think, “Hmm. Funny. I don’t remember that.”

This time? I’m praying I will walk away with a very clear memory of the events leading up to my son’s birth. I plan on sleeping the night before (even if it requires someone bashing me on the head to knock me out) and I plan on documenting everything either digitally or with pen and paper as it goes on. I have been approaching this entire pregnancy as though it is going to be my last. Partly because we have that nasty habit of repeat miscarriages, but also because we’re not positive we are going to have anymore. So, I really want to make sure I have a good record of what happens the day this child is born. I want at least one of my kids to have the gift of their Mom’s sober and clear memory of their birth.

Or maybe I’ll just ask for the morphine early and just sleep through the entire thing.

It is one week from today that I’m scheduled to have this kid cut out of me – so I can now officially refer to it as “Wednesday.” This will come in handy since I’m giant enough to warrant the question to be asked by complete strangers at least 5 times a day. Usually phrased something like, “Wow. When are you due? Two weeks ago?”

So, if someone asks me today? I’ll just say, “I will be having this baby on Wednesday. NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY ‘CAUSE I’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”

I found out that our Botanical Gardens, which you all know is my 2nd home, is having an overnighter on Friday. I got the email late because they have an email address on file I don’t always check daily. When I called? They were full. I was devastated. The idea of camping out at my favorite place in this town was SO AWESOME. They put me on the waiting list but the girl said, “You’re quite far down the list though.”

So, I played the I’m Having A Baby On Wednesday card. I started fumbling and saying things like, “Well – I wanted to do something really fun with my kids before our life gets crazy with the new baby and everything…and this was perfect because we come to the Gardens almost every weekend…it’s our favorite place and I was so excited when I found out we could spend the night there…and…” You get the point. I essentially groveled. It didn’t help. We’re still at the end of a very long waiting list and I’ve suddenly found myself REALLY hoping it will rain. I personally like camping in the rain – but I’m hoping the rest of the list doesn’t.

My point? I’m having a baby on Wednesday. And I really want to camp out at the Gardens on Friday but the first point did not help me at all with the second one. And if being scheduled to be cut apart doesn’t get you into a full camp out, THEN WHAT GOOD IS IT?

I nursed LilZ, unsuccessfully, for about six months before beginning to supplement for various reasons. However, in that six months I learned that nursing bras were a waste of my time and money. Now, I might have taken this stance because I was not in the financial situation to buy a $40 bra, but I’d like to think I just inherently knew that I would not need one. I used a cheap, wired (but unpadded) bra that I would simply pull around my boob when it was time to nurse. My nursing boobs got up to a DD size cup, so they weren’t tiny, but that $10 bra solution served the short span of nursing LilZ well.

With NikkiZ, I splurged for a few nursing bras. I actually had money and thought I’d see what the fuss was about. Only to decide after a few weeks that they annoyed the hell out of me. I switched back to my old $10 system and called it the year. I nursed her successfully for 14 months never looking back.

It has come time for me to make that decision again – and I opted against the nursing bra. AGAIN. I simply went and bought the cheap (they’re $11 now, however) bras with the underwire and no padding. They are cotton and kinda ugly although I could have bought them in pretty colors if I wanted. I spent less than $40 on three while passing the $45 rack of nursing bras in the corner. I just couldn’t bring myself to spend that kind of money on a bra that I found useless and UGLY AS HELL.

Here is my question: Am I alone? Is there anyone else who has failed to find the usefulness of a nursing bra? Or maybe I’m just a rare lucky one? Because I do find myself very blessed that I don’t have to spend $45 dollars on a bra. That leaves me more money left to make up for all of the beer I haven’t been drinking the last 9 months.