Now my not-so-odd thought from my hospital adventure on Saturday is as follows:
They showed me that lovely little chart of what dilation looks like; ATM I appear to be the size of a... Fruit Loop? Not quite Cheerio and not quite Live Saver so I suppose Fruit Loop works. Now I'm staring at this chart now wondering why I don't remember learning about where exactly the cervix is...
"Did they teach that in Health Class? Was I sick that day? Why don't I know this?!"
As well as
"Why does the one they want me to get to look so big and scary? Like a doughnut?! How big is my baby's head? How the hell do I push a head out of me? What if her head is bigger than that doughnut hole?"
This is terrifying and I have about 30 something days left to freak out about it. So I've got that going for me. I also freaked out my husband when he came home from work and the entire apartment EVERY. SINGLE. ROOM. and square inch was scrubbed, washed, bleached, cleaned, vacuumed, dusted, and the clothes, blankets, sheets were all washed. I heard him udder the phrase "Who are you and what did you do with my wife?" As I was standing in the closet hanging up clothes. I can see his confusion... I despise folding and hanging clothes. It hurts my back, it's time consuming, and all in all just plain unnecessary. I'm just going to take them all down tomorrow when I can't decide what to wear and try each shirt I own on. But it had to be done. And I felt much better knowing that everything was fresh and clean and ready for the work week. Some call it nesting... I just call it Sunday Cleaning.