After an anxious morning the other day where it seemed some mild contractions were starting, we were both a little disappointed when everything simmered down later that day. I might have been a little more let down than Alissa, actually. From my outside perspective, I see nothing different than what’s been going on the past couple of weeks – Alissa’s tired of carrying around the weight, tired of not being able to find a good position in which to sleep, tired of being inconvenienced in general, actually, and I can’t say I blame her. So when it appears some action is starting to take place, it’s pretty exciting – there’s at least something for me to react to.
I spent that morning at work in a kind of daze, my head light, my eyes wide and scared and bright. I read over the stages of labor and delivery a couple of times, just to make sure I was good and prepared, knowing at least something helpful that might prevent us from overreacting, or just reacting too early. I checked my cell phone and my work phone often, fearing I’d somehow missed a call from Alissa that would say something to the effect of “Come get me, it’s time!” It was not to be, however, and the day wound down and my alert level descended to somewhere around the optimistic yellow “cautious.” It’s tiring being at panicky “orange.”
And so yesterday followed suit, a calm, non-event of a day aside from the last-minute cancellation by Alissa’s doctor, with whom we’d had scheduled a regular weekly visit and which was now rescheduled for Monday. I’d hoped we’d go in and the doctor would tell us that she was magically dilated to the point that she needed to go straight to the hospital, that she’d somehow managed to not feel any seriously labor and the whole process would be a breeze. Again, not to be, not that day anyway.
I woke up this morning with a few goals in mind, most of which centered around getting the final bits of the house cleaned. Due to the chaos I’d inflicted on the house while painting, everything’s been in disarray for quite a while. As I’ve noted, we’ve been slowly working through the piles of stuff, sorting the things we didn’t want into stuff headed to Goodwill and stuff headed to the garbage. There have been a few nagging little things, things that didn’t really fit with anything else, which remained to find a home. I opted to scoop what we absolutely could not figure out what to do with into a box, and maybe someday we’ll actually find a place for them. I’m guessing that place will be “garbage,” but as long as we don’t have to deal with it right now.
Another issue is the growing stack of baby-related boxes. As we unpack each item, every one of them in an excessively large cardboard crate, my only choice it to stack it – not knowing exactly what we need and don’t need. If we have a return, do we need those original crates? I don’t know the answer to that so I’ve been holding onto these things for weeks now, making sure I thoroughly check over each item before I commit a box to the recycling. The problem is that some of these boxes are huge. Even broken down, one or two will take up most of the recycling can – and we still have other recycled crap to fit in there, too. So I figure later today I’ll open everything up, look every item we’ve gotten over, and break down each box. Then I’ll load up the back of my car and find a nice dumpster in which to deposit them. At some point you just have to get rid of this junk, and since it’s been several months since our house looked comfortable, and since we have at least this time to get it all taken care of, why not do it all at once?
So now the house is picked up, cleaned up, ship-shaped up, vacuumed, and finally feeling like home again. I even vacuumed places I’d forgotten about, just in case the throng of visitors that is sure to make its way to our house after the baby arrives manages to find these places. Of course, all of this is really not done for any visitor. It’s all in preparation for the new permanent resident who should be moving in any day now . . .