I’m 37 weeks today, which is impossible for me to believe. Things went CRAZY FAST this time around. I know that every birth will be different, but 37 weeks feels significant because that’s when Peaches was born. Do we have a name yet for our second child? No — we literally have not even discussed it. Have we put sheets on the bassinet? Why, no. Have I washed my nursing tanks? Is our newborn car seat installed? Is my hospital bag fully packed? No, no, and no. However, I HAVE found time to start feeling just a wee bit concerned about the whole birth thing. It’s happening, and soon. I will have to get this child out of me somehow.
I did this already? And survived it? Are you sure? I’m skeptical at best. It is such a hazy, two-and-a-half-year-old fog in my mind that I’ve recently tried to force myself to relive it so I’ll have a better idea of what to expect.
As part of that process, I’ve started to reread snippets of the private blog I kept while I was pregnant with Peaches. For my memory’s sake — and because it’s only fair, since our son’s birth story is (probably?) coming soon — I’ll share her birth story just as I wrote it right after she was born, minus the real-names thing (and a few personal details).