Cue complete and total panic

52 weeks pregnant

Have you ever seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail?  Sorry, dumb question, of course you have.  You know that part where the castle guards are watching someone run towards them?  Every time they cut to the guy, he's running at the same long distance away.  And then impossibly soon, he's right on top of them, wielding his sword?

That kind of sums up this pregnancy.  The birth was always MONTHS away, nothing to worry about, plenty of time.  And now?

Two weeks from this Friday.  AT THE MOST.

Gulp.

Impossibly soon.  And wielding a sword.  I don't mean literally, of course.  Unless you count... never mind.

I'm trying to remember how I felt two-and-a-half weeks before the twins were born.  It was exactly the time I was getting off bedrest, so there was that sense of relief that my babies were likely pretty healthy by that point, plus the grieving that I wouldn't have any excuse or opportunity to spend an entire day watching Teen Mom marathons on MTV.  What I remember freaking out about most was that 1) Bean would have a hard time adjusting to his brothers and 2) I wouldn't be able to bond with Nix and Gax because there were two of them and only one of me.  Turns out the former was a justified and realized fear, and the latter not so much.  But this time around, I am (perhaps naively) comfortable that our kids will do relatively well with a new brother, and that bonding won't really be an issue.  Instead, I am in absolute panic about two other things.  Namely: 1) There is no way my complete-these-tasks-before-baby-comes-or-you-are-totally-screwed list will be finished in time, and more importantly 2) CRAP, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO MEMORY OF WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO WITH A NEWBORN!

The few things I remember:  Feed baby constantly.  Change diaper frequently.  Give a bath every couple of days.  Dress in adorable tiny clothes.  Strap in car seat for travel.  Allow baby to sleep often, even though the favor will not be returned.

I'm hoping that will do me.

I had my 36-week check-up with my OB this morning.  Everything is looking good, blood pressure, heartbeat, etc.  I am 1.5-2 cm dilated, which freaks me out a bit, but she told me that's normal for women who have given birth previously.  Plus I did walk around for at least two weeks at 4 cm dilated with the twins.  The doc manipulated my tummy and felt the sweet little pork chop for a minute and said, "I'd guess he's about 6 pounds now, and he'll probably be around 8 pounds at birth."  I tried to smile pleasantly and nod, but she must have heard the SNORT! that occurred reflexively in the back of my brain.  She knows that Bean was 9 lbs 14 oz and the twins were 8 lbs and 6 lbs 6 oz, respectively.  I figure the chance of this single child weighing around 8 pounds (if he comes as scheduled, and not early) is approximately the same as the chance that Colin Firth will come to the hospital to congratulate me on the birth, wearing his Mr. Darcy costume and that "I am trying to hide my emotions but I am madly in love with you" expression that he always flashed at Elizabeth Bennett.

Anyway, the OB continued on to ask me what I thought his size would be.  She said that mothers' estimates of birth weight were shown to be more accurate than estimates from ultrasounds and doctors.  I did express doubt that my uterus had suddenly changed its MO and was this time carrying a reasonable amount of baby -- but I'm curious about your guess too, so I included a poll on the right side of this blog, under the "About Me" blurb.  Stop by and cast your vote!

And in the meantime, if someone feels like reorganizing storage boxes in our garage, please let me know.