Ok, so I am a little superstitious. Not in a can't-step-on-a-crack-must-take-even-number-of-steps sort of way. But in a weirder way. If that is possible.
I am superstitious in that if you don't want it to happen--don't talk about it (or knock on wood while you do if you must talk about it). Also, if you want something to happen, be absolutely as prepared as possible and everyone involved must be as prepared as possible as well. It's crazy. Really, I know this. Crazy-pants.
Anyway, my hospital bag and Emerson's diaper bag have been packed for weeks. WEEKS. And for the same amount of time, I have been asking Andy to pack his bag. Not that he really needs one (we are literally an eight minute drive from the hospital) but it wouldn't hurt for him to have a change of clothes and toothbrush. He hasn't done it yet. So, of course, crazy pants me, I blame him for Emerson not being here yet.
But here is kind of the funny thing:
Andy is doing it on purpose! He totally believes in my crazy brand of superstitions. Or is a giant procrastinator. Hm. Most people (those who know anything about Andy) would say it is the latter. His super analytical and logical mind would never even consider superstition to factor in to Em's arrival and also he IS a huge procrastinator.
BUT
He is nervous for me to go into labor on my own. Both Matt and Nic were induced. With at least 8 hours notice ahead of time. I was hooked up to machines that pinged and dinged and tracked contractions and monitored me and the baby. This made Andy feel very safe. And comfortable that if anything went wonky, the docs and nurses would be right there. And he is perfectly happy for me to stay preggo until our induction date.
But I really did not like being induced. And would prefer not to go through it again. Inductions are long. And boring. And pitocin is the devil. I have never done what millions of women have done on their own: started labor. And really, I want to. I want the experience of getting to labor at home before going in to be hooked up to machines and monitors and IV's. So I WANT to be ready with my hospital bags so we can throw them in the car after timing contractions and feeling the giddiness as we head to labor and delivery.
I know, I am romanticising it all. But given my crazy superstitions, a little romanticising can't be too unexpected.
I am going to try my best to convince Andy to pack a bag sometime today. And if he doesn't I really hope I get the chance to yell at him (in my most kind and loving I-told-you-so way) while I am in labor and waiting to head up to Tripler.
I am superstitious in that if you don't want it to happen--don't talk about it (or knock on wood while you do if you must talk about it). Also, if you want something to happen, be absolutely as prepared as possible and everyone involved must be as prepared as possible as well. It's crazy. Really, I know this. Crazy-pants.
Anyway, my hospital bag and Emerson's diaper bag have been packed for weeks. WEEKS. And for the same amount of time, I have been asking Andy to pack his bag. Not that he really needs one (we are literally an eight minute drive from the hospital) but it wouldn't hurt for him to have a change of clothes and toothbrush. He hasn't done it yet. So, of course, crazy pants me, I blame him for Emerson not being here yet.
But here is kind of the funny thing:
Andy is doing it on purpose! He totally believes in my crazy brand of superstitions. Or is a giant procrastinator. Hm. Most people (those who know anything about Andy) would say it is the latter. His super analytical and logical mind would never even consider superstition to factor in to Em's arrival and also he IS a huge procrastinator.
BUT
He is nervous for me to go into labor on my own. Both Matt and Nic were induced. With at least 8 hours notice ahead of time. I was hooked up to machines that pinged and dinged and tracked contractions and monitored me and the baby. This made Andy feel very safe. And comfortable that if anything went wonky, the docs and nurses would be right there. And he is perfectly happy for me to stay preggo until our induction date.
But I really did not like being induced. And would prefer not to go through it again. Inductions are long. And boring. And pitocin is the devil. I have never done what millions of women have done on their own: started labor. And really, I want to. I want the experience of getting to labor at home before going in to be hooked up to machines and monitors and IV's. So I WANT to be ready with my hospital bags so we can throw them in the car after timing contractions and feeling the giddiness as we head to labor and delivery.
I know, I am romanticising it all. But given my crazy superstitions, a little romanticising can't be too unexpected.
I am going to try my best to convince Andy to pack a bag sometime today. And if he doesn't I really hope I get the chance to yell at him (in my most kind and loving I-told-you-so way) while I am in labor and waiting to head up to Tripler.
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