A Kiss, A Cry, Our Rights, Our Wrongs
The friend who I keep writing about is pregnant, and it's like a switch was flipped. In fact, it's probably why she came to our party, because she was a little pregnant at that point and feeling like she could stand seeing some bellies. So maybe I'll talk to her about it in a few months when she gives birth and get her side of the story. Maybe it will be interesting. Probably it will be just like we all thought.
Gray just asked me what my plan is for when I go into labor (1.5 weeks away is due date.) I said, "Maybe I'll go to Amoeba Records" (which is in the Haight and kind of close to where I'll deliver), and he goes, "But what if your water breaks there?" and then said, "Doesn't matter, I'm sure they've seen worse. Like an exploding hobo." Now all I can think of is a homeless person standing in the middle of the store erupting all over everything. True that water breaking would be a walk in the park comparatively, but still maybe not fun for me and grose for everybody nearby.
I've nothing new and interesting to share, I'm just totally consumed by the fact that I'll be giving birth in probably a week. There's no way around it, you know? I have a giant belly with a baby inside it, and she's going to come out whether I'm ready or not. It's nice how I get increasingly more and more crazy as the time wears on, though. Like I can't spell, I can't remember words, I'm kind of spacey and dumb, I think that I'm pregnant with twins because I'm measuring 3 weeks ahead even though I've had three ultrasounds and a CVS, I constantly think labor is beginning because of practice contractions... it just goes on. I downloaded a contractions iPhone app yesterday which should be fun when it finally does start, though.
My midwife is a good storyteller. She's not shy about talking about her craziest births, which may or may not be a little violation of patient confidentiality, I don't know. She kind of also tramples the unspoken midwife rule that you aren't supposed to tell scary stories to moms-to-be, too, like you need to keep them thinking positively instead of dwelling on the bad stuff. She talks a lot about the bad stuff. All I know is that I don't want a 28 hour labor like last time, but I also don't want a three hour labor that ends with me running into the place from the street, having a contraction, and delivering the baby on the floor. Yikes.
And the latest crazy thing I have to worry about is that there's a giant sort of biblical red tide going on in the ocean locally right now, and they're releasing warnings right and left saying "Don't eat shellfish caught in the red tide!" and what did I have for lunch yesterday? Shrimp. I keep trying to call the restaurant where I got the food and they aren't answering, which makes me think they were fishing locally and they're guilty and running from the law. And meanwhile I'll be dead from some toxic neurological explosion. Kind of like a hobo in the middle of Amoeba.