So...

Baby

So, this pregnancy has been different than the first one. Which is a given, since, duh. There's also this little thing called a global pandemic going down. And oh, yeah, I'm three years older ("advanced maternal age") and have since developed chronic hypertension (genetics + black folks + age, I guess) since the last time, too (after I had little buddy #1 and before I got pregners with little buddy #2). All of that to say, I have more risk factors this time, and this bubbling gumbo of circumstances stirred together basically means that I've been going in twice a week for extra monitoring for several weeks now and that I'll be induced if I don't go into labor on my own by 39 weeks. That is, if everything concerning me and the baby continues to be stable. If anything changes, it could be before 39 weeks. I went into labor on my own with little buddy #1 at 39 weeks on the dot, so I think there's a decent chance that I will again this time either on or before the 39 week cutoff. So alladat to say, who knows?

I'd rather go into labor on my own. Not like my doula can come to the hospital with me anyway (thanks, COVID), but if I go into labor on my own, maybe she could help me for a while at home and offer virtual support once we're admitted. If I go into labor on my own, it would be close to ideal. But if I have to be induced...I mean, it's not the end of the world, I mean, women get induced all the time. But if I'm induced, then whatever chemically kickstarted labor ensues wouldn't be natural. Meaning, if it comes to that, I'll probably just be like, if you're going to do all that, might as well go on ahead and stick a needle in my spine and numb me from the waist down so I'm not steeling myself against waves of chemically induced labor contractions (much more sudden, stronger and faster than the natural deal). 

Sigh. We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Bottom line, the most important thing is healthy body, healthy baby, however that has to happen.

Free area rug?

So, the Wayfair saga continues. I finally got my money put back on the gift card, I ordered a whole 'nother rug and ottoman. Mind you, according to Wayfair, the order for the original rug had been cancelled because the brand or whatever had been discontinued. Well, would you believe that the rug from the canceled order showed up on our doorstep the other day? Um...okay. I actually did want the rug originally, and we actually do need another area rug in the sunroom...it still shows up as cancelled in my Wayfair account and still haven't been charged for it. Keep it? Attempt to return it? Since I'm supposed to be a child of God, I went ahead and called Wayfair customer service (again) to see what they wanted me to do with it. In the end I was told that they would either schedule a pick up to send it back or instruct me to donate or discard it if I didn't want it. UPDATE: They want me to return it. Blast! If I had never called about it, no one would have been the wiser. I mean, what do they want with a discontinued rug? Alas, I shall console myself with having "done the right thing."

Middle school memories

So, my son wakes up at around 4:30 am this morning crying while saying "Go home! Go home please!" Poor buddy. I'm thinking he had a bad dream. He is at the age where children start having nightmares and night terrors. I went in to calm him down and he settled back to sleep, but then I couldn't go back to sleep. So I started puttering around on my phone and for some weird reason thought about this nerdy kid I had a crush on in 7th grade. So, I did what any bored insomniac would do and Googled his name. How I still remember his name I have no earthly idea, but he has a distinct name and I'm 99.9% sure the person who popped up is him. I didn't even do that much poking around...like all of his social media accounts were like right there, and he looked like a late-thirties version of the 7th grader I remember. But here's the thing...we sat at the same table in Art class and we had an assignment to draw a portrait of our partner. He was my partner and I drew a portrait of him. Like the hoarder I am, I actually still have it. It's in a sketch book that I saved and stored amongst other masterpieces from that class and various and sundry accoutrements consisting of sentimental junk. It's all currently in our attic. Now, here's a question: If someone in 7th grade had drawn a portrait of you and still had it all these years later, would you want to see it? And another: But if the person who had drawn said portrait popped up out of nowhere and say, sent you a picture of it via social media, would you be weirded out? If those questions were hypothetically posed to me, I think the answer to both would be yes. Yes, I would be interested in seeing the portrait. I mean, it would be interesting to see someone's rendering of my 7th grade self, I guess. But yes, I would also be slightly weirded out. Like, was the person stalking me or something? Why now, after all these years? Right?

As of now, the portrait remains in the sketch book in the attic and I haven't taken any steps towards reaching out to my 7th grade former crush to send a picture of it. I probably won't. But let's say I did. Would it be utterly weird? I mean, any surface scan of my social media profiles would reveal that I'm happily married and mothering. Like, would your first impulse be to think anything untoward if you were to receive such a missive? I told my husband about it and he just shrugged and said, "Yeah, I guess I would want to see the portrait, but it might also be weird." But, I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Or...nah. Maybe I should just leave well enough alone.