A popular definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.

According to this definition, I really will be pregnant forever.

I’ve had lots and lots of contractions this pregnancy. I swear the contractions started before I started feeling fetal movement. I get contractions nearly every time I stand up. Walking up or down stairs (and I live in a 3 stairway house) is almost guaranteed to initiate contractions. Pretty much every afternoon I start getting contractions, and they are worst while I’m getting dinner on the table. By the time I sit down for dinner (nearly every day this week) I’m mentally packing my hospital bag. 

Then they go away. I go to sleep. I wake up the next morning, still very very pregnant and feeling slightly foolish about the night before.

You see where I’m going with this?

SOMETIME in the next, uh, 18 days those contractions will actually be for real. And they will be going somewhere. And I just know that by then I’ll have subconsciously learned my lesson and completely stopped paying attention to the damn things. By the time labor pains get truly unambiguous, it’s really pretty late in the process. With Grey, labor was only for-darn-sure maybe 3 – 4 hours before he was actually born. And second babies come sooner. And this time around, we have to get someone to be with Grey while we’re gallavanting off to the hospital, so we NEED the time more.

So every night, when I get the contractions, I think of saying, “Oh, here we go again.” And then I think, “But what if this IS the night?”


In other pressing, important, critically interesting news, I decided yesterday that something had to give. Something simply HAD to change.

My hair was pregnancy-thick and just past shoulder length. It was heavy enough to laugh off most barrettes and hair bands, but too short to braid.

Now, it is much shorter and rather more layered. I don’t think this is my Platonic Ideal of a haircut. I dare say it looks a touch too mommyish. (What? Just because I have a 3 year old and am 18 months pregnant doesn’t mean I have to THINK of myself as mommyish.) But it is also a vast improvement over what came before.

And yes. I am still pregnant. Yes. Still.

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Brenda currently lives in Stoneham MA, but grew up in Mineral WA. She is surrounded by men, with two sons, one husband and two boy cats. She plays trumpet at church, cans farmshare produce and works in software.

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