I tried to go to sleep. I kept trying for about an hour. The baby hiccuped. The baby rolled. I rolled. I readjusted. And, worst of all, I thought. And worried. And planned. And made LISTS. There was no hope for sleep once the mental lists got going. This is the price I pay for reading baby books before bed.
So here I am. Looking through my registry trying to decide which of the items still on there will need to be purchased before the baby is born and which items can wait until later. I also started a to-do list. And sadly, one of the items on my list is to make another list. I won't go into detail--just realize how sad that is.
Tomorrow I will be 35 weeks--leaving me only five short weeks to get all of these things done. And to make it worse, Chris will be starting a very busy and exhausting rotation on Thursday, so anything I really want his help on will need to be in the next few days. Oh wait, he is working nights until then...making it hard to get anything done. Great.
I've managed to put a lot of things off until this last little stretch because I kept telling myself that "there's time." Well, there isn't much left, so I better get started. For instance, maybe it would be a good idea to have a list of names picked out for when we go to the hospital. We have a "list" of about 30 names...not very helpful. We're not going to the hospital with one of each because we truly feel that we won't be able to really choose a name until we meet the child, but less than 30 would be a good idea, right?
But the most important question that we need to answer before we have this baby is...what should the birth song be? If you know my husband at all, you know just how big of a deal this is. We are currently leaning toward "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen, but I have my hang-ups about how deceptive that song is. It sounds all happy and upbeat, but the lyrics are really quite sad...I actually use it in the classroom to talk about the dark side of the American Dream. Maybe if we can just play the chorus on repeat. What better way to enter the world than by listening to The Boss scream the location of your birth--just in case you thought perhaps it was Mongolia or something.