Cervix-shmervix

Well we went to the belly doc today with great anticipation. Some time ago the belly had a procedure that evidently had the effect of chopping off part of the innards of my beloved. At the time all I heard was "no sexual activity for 8 weeks" pretty much everything after that was "blah, blah, blah". Now I'm generally in the doc's corner but when you drop a bomb that the previously mentioned procedure can have a very substantial impact on the current condition, well a little heads up would have been nice. Both the belly and I were worried that the cervix had been affected to the point that we now had worry that the critter could fall out at a moments notice, that my brothers is real worry.

You don't really think about all the problems, until you read(damn you google) or the belly doc drops a bomb on you that the belly might have to have bed rest and you are permanently barred from the happy place. Now we spent a two week period worrying about whether we need to make the belly pose a 12 week handstand. Cooking a baby is no walk in the park, I can tell you that. The belly has been pretty mellow lately with no big problems, so when the worm of worry gets placed in her ear, it burrows straight into the brain.

But all was good, the cervix was the proper length, as demonstrated by the doc in a gesture of forefinger and thumb, although when representing distance, hand gestures should generally be avoided. The cervix is adequate, and that is all we needed to know.

The belly took it all in stride and asked few questions. Me I wanted to shout, " what he f**k, doc? Could you not give us a little more heads up on the whole 'complications' issue"? But right now I seem like the only hysterical one. The belly is in a state of bliss, and although I'm not complaining, I have a hard time switching gears. Now that we are in the 30th week, my trepidation has been nullified by the belly's relaxed state. She has chilled to the point that I really don't recognize her anymore. She is on the downhill slide and dropped the non-stop anxiety of losing the critter almost entirely.

So with the indeffirence of the preggo-doc, we are in the home stretch, we aren't nervous about the outcome of the pregnancy, we are now shifted into the "do we have enough shit" mode.and judging by the advice of others, we do not have nearly enough short.

I got blisters on me fingers

So I know it has been a while, but what can I say.... I am to tired to type. You see, the belly has been tired and lethargic, but that has not translated into rest time for your brother in bellydom. Last weekend the belly asked me "are you going to get started on the baby's room?". Now my friends you must understand that no question posed at this point is actually a question. No, no, no, no, a question at his juncture is simply an order, a call to action, an ultimatum. You may be fooled into thinking that a question is an opportunity for you to explain how you will spring into action when it is closer to necessity, but you would be wrong. So very wrong.

Now let's talk about the baby room. It has to be exactly what the belly has envisioned. This would be simple enough if the belly was able to explain precisely what it wanted, but you will not be that lucky. You with get have exposed photos and strips of magazine pages that are meant to give you guidance. It is up to you to take these scraps and create the perfect baby room. Now I know what you're thinking.... The baby has absolutely no awareness of the surroundings, but you have to remember the baby room is not even remotely for the baby, it is for the belly, by the belly, and from the belly. It is the manifestation of the motherly love realized into shades of blue, white and pink. You see, the baby room is the one thing the belly can control at this point, and man o man you better get your paintbrush out and get to steppin'. I have now refinished the previously purchased dresser. Painted the ceiling and walls, and moved anything that is not baby centric to other parts of the house.

The ironic thig is that we have an ample supply of room, but the baby has already occupied a big chunk of real estate and she hasn't even been born yet. I mean really, do we need to spend this much time on picking out the lampshade? Chances are the belly will keep the critter close during the first few weeks so why do I have to kill myself getting just the right shade of gray? The belly doesn't concern itself with these practicalities. The room must be prepared and must be just right. I have now busted my ass getting the right layer of latex paint on every conceivable inch of the new room, and I. Am. Tired.

Tired not because I don't want a pretty room, but because I would have waited until a much more sane "notice to proceed" was issued. One that aligned a little closer to the due date. The belly, however, wants to get this facet of the future hairless squirrel locked in, finished, completed, done...

So my back, hands, and gluteus muaximus are tired and sore. Small price to pay in my book, cause I am in the "good husband/daddy" category. Not the "sorry-worthless-doesn't-care-I-don't-know-why-I-agreed-to-procreate-with-this-miserable-bastard" category.

You want to know how to avoid trouble: do what the belly asks you about, nothing more, nothing less. You will be tired, but consider it training for when you have to step up and care for the little poop machine. The point being that you better set down your beer and start creating the room that will make the belly happy. And let me clear up an important misconception. You are not actually ever being asked for your opinion. Your job is to nod and say "sounds good to me". If the belly wants a specific color on the walls, you schlep yourself down to Home Depot and tell them to mix you up a gallon of the subtle shade of gray.

So the baby room is done, the refinished dresser is firmly ensconced, and I avoided the urge to try to offer
the male perspective. I am all good with the belly, finally.

The belly: 974
Me: 3