In which I journey to far-off lands the East Bay in search of a mythical labor-inducing pizza. (Not because I'm desperate to get this show on the road…just mostly because pizza sounded good, and labor pizza sounded funny, and whenever the words "funny" and "pizza" go together that can't be a bad thing.)
Here's how it went.
Just thinking about this day today, and feeling emotional and excited and a little scared.
The truth: I'm feeling more than "a little scared." I'm really, really scared. More scared, in fact, than I was the first time, because now I know just how big of a thing it is to bring a baby into the world. The first time I figured, what, it hurts? Big deal. But now I know that it's not about "hurting," it's about one of the most exhausting, overwhelming and - yes - painful ordeals you can put a body through, and I know about all the stuff that can go wrong…and I'm scared. And that fear makes me disappointed in myself, because shouldn't I just be pure joy at this point, days before I meet my daughter? Shouldn't I feel like Christmas is coming?
I don't feel that way. I know that joy is on the way, of course I do…but right now I feel scared. And I guess I'm mostly scared that I won't be as brave as I want to be, because I wasn't last time.
But that's why I've been spending time every day looking at these photos: because seeing them reminds me that there's something much bigger waiting for me on the other side of the pain and the exhaustion and the everything-that-might-go-wrong, and that's that no matter what happens, I know this: I get to fall in love. Again. I almost can't believe it. I know there's "a baby" coming…but my daughter? That doesn't feel possible; it feels too big and too forever to be real.
A few last-minute things I've been checking off my list prior to Goldie's arrival:
1. Gel Pedicuring. Have I mentioned how amazing gel pedicures are? They are amazing. They last forevvver, and since I am lazy about getting to the salon generally and anticipate extra-laziness about making time for the salon in the coming months, this is a good thing. I went for neon orange sort of by accident - it looked coral in the sample, and then turned fluorescent on my nails - but hey, it's August, and toes that look like little glowworms never killed anyone. (I was going to get a gel manicure, too, but my nails are looking like they need a break from polish, so I'm going the cleanly-filed-and-bare route for a bit.)
2. Bang Trimming. Not "bangs," exactly (I'm over them for the time being), but rather "a few shorter pieces of hair in the front part of my head." Why? Because when I have zero time to deal with styling my hair, my go-to solution is to throw it all up into a messy bun, and then just blow-dry those shorter front pieces with a round brush and let them fall where they like.
You know by now how much we love road trips. Mostly because of the adventure, the not-quite-sure-where-we're-headed-ness of it all, the willingness to see a sign along the side of the highway and turn onto a dusty road to follow it just because we're curious and we've got nowhere to be. But sometimes it's good to at least start out with a goal in mind - a place to set our GPS to that we know we'll end up loving - and that's what we did on Saturday.
Ever since I wrote that we were coming out here for the summer, I've been getting emails from readers that have been some of the most thoughtful, wonderful emails I've ever received. You've sent me words of support and encouragement that have made me feel not-so-alone while living in a place where I don't really know anyone at all, but even more than that: you've sent me lists.
I love lists.
And the lists that you've sent of things we simply have to do and see while we're out West have been such a gift. They've helped me make this summer not just "nice"…but one of the best ever.
…is a Trader Joe's ice cream sandwich.
I remember this from the end of my last pregnancy: you can only eat tiny amounts of food at a time, because your stomach is located somewhere in your vertebrae and smushed to the size of a pea. What this means is that I've gotten really weird-specific about what I want to ingest. It has nothing to do with nutrition, the time of day, the amount of ice cream I have already eaten over the past twenty-four hours…all it has to do with is WANT THAT NOW.
For example:
I no longer want peaches, strawberries, mangos, or any of the other fruits that I've spent the past nine months obsessing over. Instead, I would like cantaloupe and watermelon, and all of it, please.
