admin note: if you’re interested in hopping on the notify list to be informed when the babe makes his grand appearance, feel free to sign up. The notify is one-way only and notifies of new entries, on the site here as well as when the baby is born. email me to be added.

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To: Cajoling
From: The Fetal Condo* Association, also known as, “The Maternal Unit.”
Re: Your current status
Date: 7/5/06

Dear Mr. Cajoling,

YOU ARE HEREBY NOTIFIED that there is now due the undersigned Landlord, the sum of a good night’s sleep, regular use of the Maternal Unit’s pelvic region, walking without feeling like legs will pop out of sockets, and not going to the bathroom in the middle of the night anymore, being rent for the premises situated in the City of Chicago and County of Cook, State of Illinois and described as follows, to wit:

The property at Casey’s Belly, Unit Number 1, City of Chicago, Illinois, together with all arms, legs, uteri, placentas, umbilical cords, and other structures used in connection with said premises.

YOU ARE FURTHER NOTIFIED that payment of said sum so due has been and is hereby demanded of you and that UNLESS PAYMENT THEREOF IS MADE ON OR BEFORE THE EXPIRATION OF NINETEEN DAYS AFTER THE SERVICE OF THIS NOTICE, YOUR LEASE OF SAID PREMISES WILL BE TERMINATED NINETEEN DAYS AFTER SERVICE OF THIS NOTICE.

ONLY IMMEDIATE FULL PAYMENT of the rent due in this notice will waive the Landlord’s right to terminate the lease under this Notice, unless the Landlord agrees in writing to continue the lease in exchange for receiving partial payment. (ed. note: DON’T BET ON IT, BABY!)

Dated this 5th day of July, 2006

Mom
LANDLORD

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37 week visit to Dr. K was today and for no good reason it made me more and more depressed as the appointment went along. He’s still unconcerned about the baby’s head size (side note, egad) and size in general. “At this point, the average size range is anywhere between the 10th and 90th percentile range. You’re at about 80. Big, but normal, considering the diabetes.”

Pause.

He grins at me. “It’s okay, though. He’s all head!” At this point, my eyes bugged open all Caucasian-like and I laughed out loud.

Anyway, blood pressure was high again and so Dr. K wants me to do a 24-hour urine collection again, plus some other bloodwork. Bah. I have a non-stress test and ultrasound tomorrow, but I think I’m going to have to push it to Friday because I’ve double-booked myself with something at work. And the only time I can do this is on Sunday, so I can bring it in first thing Monday morning. Gah.

I remember so clearly the elation at around the end of the 2nd and the start of the 3rd trimester - how I loved being pregnant - and I do marvel too, at this entire process, from the first pregnancy test I took to the kick and the movements my son is making right now. That Josh and I created a life will never fail to take my breath away.

Right now, though, I am done. I am tired of being pregnant. I am desperate to meet my son and to move onto the next part of our journey together, one where he and I will get to know each other on the outside.

Not until after this weekend, though; I have dim sum plans with some friends and plus, I need tomorrow and Friday to finish up my major work projects. I think I’ll be okay, though: I asked Dr. K as I was leaving today, “Hey, so do you think I’ll be having this baby anytime soon?” He laughed and shook his head.

“Nope!”

* the term fetal condo is hereby attributed to a Ms. Nora Charles, who upon my telling her of my knockedupness, proclaimed me a fetal condo. Today this phrase seems ever so apt.