Malaise ...

One of the signs of approaching labor is that you feel that something's not right.

Oh, heck, I've been feeling like that for nearly a MONTH NOW.

There's more uncertainty happening here than in Heisenberg's Principle.
How am I SUPPOSED TO FEEL?!?!?!?!?!???????

*facepalm*

(Yes, I did just make a nerd joke. Hey ... if nothing else, I've maintained SOME semblance of a sense of humor. I've cultivated it for years. SOMETHING has to make up for the fact that my feet are all puffy and nasty-looking. I miss my metatarsals. I miss how svelte my ankles COULD look.  I'm in mourning for my feet. And if this dratted baby would EVER come, I could have them back. ... I could have had them back maybe by NOW if she had just frakking COOPERATED on Friday. ... My uterus is still a little sore. Just for the record.)

My pregnancy-induced/-centered dreams are getting weirder.
My mad Google-fu skillz aren't helping.

Yesterday, IRL, I was looking up "how to tell if your water has broken" ... a big part is that (1) it's not going to be yellow, like pee; (2) it won't smell like pee; and (3) if you lay down (after putting on a pad) and then get up and it "gushes" ... THEN it's amniotic fluid.

In my dream, one of Michael's cousins bought an antique sports car. And a lot of antique luggage, which happened to belong to Grandpa C. And there were these blue-prints/technical drawings ... of fruit. Yeah. Don't get it.
And I was getting a little jealous as everyone's talking ... since Michael's East Coast cousins seemed to always be going on vacations and getting free hotel rooms and all. (IRL, I think the last "vacation" that Michael and I had was when we went to Seattle for our second anniversary. Stayed at a hotel and everything. A Motel 6 ... Yeah. Not as romantic as our honeymoon when we had a hot tub in the room. Oh well. Since then, it's been camping trips. Or trips with family. Not a bad thing ... but not very romantical or posh or anything.)

And then I realized that my crotch was damper than usual. So I went to the bedroom/bathroom ... and I couldn't really tell ... so I squatted over the sink (there are mirrors over the sinks in our bathroom) and relaxed. And I peed and SHOT LITERS of clear fluid in HUGE SQUIRTS into the sink.
"Honey, don't go anywhere," I requested (rather calmly) of Michael.

Then, flash forward to a playplace outside Red Robin (where, IRL, there IS no play place). Michael and I are lying on a slide. And there's no baby. Because, somehow, in my dream, I had been pregnant for MUCH LONGER than 9 months ... but it was two pregnancies ... and I had lost the first one. Then, quickly, before we realized that there even WAS a loss, was pregnant again ... and the baby still hadn't been born.

So.... yeah. Obviously, I think that I'm going to shoot out amniotic fluid like a pressurized fire hose.
And that my gestational period for this pregnancy is going to give elephants a run for their money.

At this point, though, can you really blame me??

... I hope those were her feet. Please tell me that those were her feet that just jabbed me in the ribs.
Please?
pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?????????

My Visiting Teacher came by yesterday evening. She even brought us dinner. (So I don't have to cook tonight. Which is nice, since Michael's in class. Again. ... Unless I go into labor or my water breaks. Then I call him, call Mom, and head to the hospital. I'll call Mom C, too. And probably a friend to drive me over. Just in case.)
But she (my Visiting Teacher) is SURE that I have dropped. ... Which is a good thing.
Maybe I'll eventually HAVE this stinking baby. (Though I hope that BabyGirl won't LITERALLY stink. Much.)

Mom will come up tomorrow.

I just want to cry. Like all day. Please tell me that this is labor approaching. That I won't be pregnant FOREVER. That this child will BE and STAY head-down.

Last pregnancy, I didn't MIND having the kiddos inside me ... but, well, they WERE better behaved. With BabyGirl, I think that I really want her OUT so that I don't have to worry anymore about which way she's turned THIS hour.

Crap. I think I feel toes on my cervix again.
*string of curses*

I'm going to take a shower and cry now.
And not JUST because she's pressing HARD against my (probably bruised) uterine wall.