My Uterus Ripens

There's just something about that expression that tickles me. As I've reached the "any day now, or else another few weeks" point of pregnancy, I decided to actually flip through some of the books on birthing that have been filling up a shelf, given to us and ignored for all these months. Having done so, I concluded that it would have been fine not to look at them, for the most part. Got some amusement out of visualizing strawberry mists to float on (don't really think that's going to happen, but you never know). Can't even remember the other funny bits. But I will say that - as common wisdom around here goes - Ina May's Guide to Childbirth is the one to read, if you're going to read one. She's got a good attitude, lots of experience, a nice combination of common sense, humor, appreciation for modern medicine, and trust in a woman's body. She talks about how men would brag if they had a body part that could do what our girly bits do, and I have these great images of men shooting pool, drinking beer, and claiming "Mine dilated to 13 centimeters, dude!"

That idea - that our bodies are built for this and know what to do - is the most helpful birth prep for me. It's something I can believe in and hang on to and has moved me beyond the "very small hole" anxiety of the early days. Heck, I'm even aiming for orgasmic! If I can't have dolphins, I can at least hope for that.

On another note entirely, Glee may be my new favorite show. It has some unnecessary side plots (the wife with the fake pregnancy) but on the whole is pretty damn entertaining. Except I got that irritating Beyonce song stuck in my head after the last episode I saw (we're watching them online, and therefore are behind a few weeks). I can't quite put my finger on why I dislike it so much, but something just doesn't work for me about that whole "If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it" bit. I'm sure some clever feminist has a well-articulated argument about possession and objectification and all that jazz, so I'll just get on her bandwagon, wherever she is. You go, girl!

This whole television-on-the-internet thing has totally ruined my self-righteousness about not having a TV. And I missed World Poetry Day, and meant to post some choice rhymes. Even if they didn't actually rhyme. Another time.

Ok, back to the daily lounging about and feeling uncomfortable. :)

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