The stress is showing. Since I got pregnant, I have found four legit gray hairs. Like, long ones. Not little pre-gray hairs that are coarse and yellow-y. Legit. I've decided not to dye my hair, and I didn't pull them, because dammit, I earned that shit. Mitch has said if I start to look too much like my mom, he will dye my hair in my sleep. He doesn't want to feel like he's making out with his mother-in-law. Bull. Whenever he grows his beard out, he looks like the reincarnation of the Mountain Man (aka his dad). His dad used to dress up in animal hides and retreat to the woods and eat dutch oven apple cobbler for days at a time. So deal. We're getting old, and we happen to share quite a bit of DNA with the people that bore us. So to make myself feel younger, I bought these ridiculous glasses because I think they make me look hip. When I wear them, I feel alive.
We met with our doula this week to discuss our "birth plan." Psh. Like Meatball will let me have a plan. Regardless, we do have a list of "preferences." People, including our doula, keep asking me if I'm scared of labor. Frankly, I'm not scared. Maybe I'm totally masochistic and delusional, but when I think about going into labor, and working the hardest I'll ever work, I feel no fear. We have prepared ourselves well by reading books, taking a class and getting a doula. I've had a super easy pregnancy, and I've been able to stay active and do yoga the whole time. And seriously, doing Kegels has become like blinking to me. I do them at work, at the grocery store, during dinner, wherever. I've probably been doing Kegels when I've been talking to you, and you didn't even know it. CREEPY. But I will not be incontinent after the birth of this baby. No thanks.
Anyway, at this point, I'm just too excited to meet my baby to be scared. And, if I'm fortunate enough to experience labor, I feel like it's going to be one of the most empowering experiences of my life. Whenever I imagine labor, I think it will feel like this.