Baby: Wake up... I know you're there, Mommy. (Punches bladder as hard as she possibly can).
Me: Ouch! Why did you do that? (Winces. Tries to hold the pee in.)
Baby: I'm trying to bond here.
Me: I'm trying to sleep here.
Baby: Ya know...I'm not going to let you sleep for at least a year after I'm born.... (Gives another punch to the bladder)
Me: And that would be when? (Decides the bathroom is precisely where she needs to go if the kid is going to continue the punches.)
Baby: I'm thinking March 32, 2065 might be the perfect day to make my appearance. I kinda like it here.
Me: There is no March 32, and I don't think I could handle this for another fifty years.
Baby: Okay, Mommy, I'll just stay here forever. Any chance you could get me a cupcake, the white kind with the cream cheese frosting?
* * *
Technically, I'm still a little over two weeks from my due date, but it feels like I've been pregnant forever. I'm trying to savor each kick, squirm, and punch—yes, even the ones that send me running to the bathroom, but the waiting game is driving me crazy. I don't remember being so impatient with my other three. I feel like I should tell you a little about my pregnancies/labors with them while we're waiting.
* * *
Lesa
I found out that I was pregnant with Lesa on July 3, 2004. Tom and I were newlyweds, married less than three months earlier. I probably should back up a bit because this story is amazing. Or at least, I think it is.
We had been dating for over four years when my husband proposed to me in March of 2004. He proposed in New Orleans before we left on a cruise for Mexico. The trip was wonderful. On our drive back to Indiana, we argued about when we were going to get married. We both wanted a destination wedding, but it was a challenge deciding when to have it. He was wanting sometime around Thanksgiving. I was looking more at Christmas.
Any arguing came to an abrupt halt the next day.
I remember it quite well. I'd gone to breakfast with my teacher friends and showed them my new bling. Gosh, they were just as excited as I was. Little did I know how quickly I could go from being on top of the world to being distraught.
I drove home and Tom was waiting. He'd gone through the stack of mail that had piled during our vacation. In one of those stacks was a letter from the army. He hadn't been in the army at all during the time we dated. He'd kept his name on the list after September 11 in case the country needed him, but he'd done next to nothing Army-related in the six years that he'd been out.
This letter was saying that he needed to report for active duty on April 21. That was little more than three weeks away.
