With the big day looming, I’ve decided that I’ve changed my mind.
“Instead of having a baby these July holidays, let’s go on holiday instead,” I suggested to Himself, somewhat desperately.
“I don’t think it works like that… What’s wrong? Why are you wincing?”
“I just got a punch in the colon.”
“Can’t imagine why she would do that,” Himself muttered wryly.
“All I had to do was find a list of what I needed for hospital – how difficult would that be?”
The thing is, I think I’m suffering from empty nest syndrome. I really think that Slytherin Baby should just stay put for a bit longer – I’m not ready for her to move out just yet. There are so many things I still need to do before she arrives: finish decorating the nursery, packing my hospital bag, sleeping, seeing friends, having a life of my own…
“What do we still need to do to the nursery?” exclaimed Himself. “I’ve painted it, put up a pretty light, built a cot, installed an aircon! There isn’t enough space in the room to do anything else!”
“It needs to be decorated.”
“It’s pink! That counts as decorated!”
“I’ve ordered stickers for the wall. Unfortunately, it’s a toss-up to see who will arrive first – the decorations or the baby.”
“Do you really think she’ll mind if she moves into a room that doesn’t have stickers?” he muttered.
“I suppose we could put up some picture frames; maybe she’ll like that.”
Himself groaned. Then reminded himself how hormonal his wife was and sighed. “Okay, we can put up some of the photos from the maternity shoot we did. That way she can have family photos up.”
“Well, they’re nice and everything, but…”
“But those photos aren’t really what I look for in a picture.”
“What do you look for in a picture?”
“How thin they make me look.”
“Fine! I’ll put up the stickers, but then you have to pack your hospital bag!”
Now I know that you’re supposed to have your hospital bag packed by the time you’re a week away from your due date, and to be fair, I’d had “Pack hospital bag” on my to-do list for the past month. I’d been confident when I put that on my list – smugly sure that I would be able to cross it off in no time and claim that I was well prepared for the baby’s arrival. All I had to do was find a list of what I needed for hospital – how difficult would that be? Surely, all hospital visits are more or less the same?
After finding three lists, all titled along the lines of “If you don’t pack this, your hospital stay will be miserable!”, I felt like I was back to normal – panicked and unsure. All three lists assured me that if I didn’t pack exactly what they told me to pack, I would not survive labour; and, of course, all three lists were completely different!
‘Hospitals are hot – make sure you have summer PJs’; ‘I’ve never been so cold in my life – pack enough winter jammies’. The only thing they all agreed on was that I needed make-up. Unfortunately, I don’t usually wear make-up and Himself refused to go to the shops to buy me some just for the hospital.
No problem. I’ll just pack the baby’s bag. She doesn’t have to worry about summer or winter PJs.
“What’s the problem now?” asked Himself when I stormed out the room five minutes later muttering nasty things about hospital bags.
“I have to pack three babygrows for her!”
“So? We have lots, you’ve even arranged them according to size – just pack some of the 0-3 months.”
“Which 0-3 months?” I cried, showing him the three babygrows I had out – it looked like I was preparing for a scene from Goldilocks – there was a big one, a medium one and a little one. “They’re all labelled 0-3 months!”
“What happens if you go into labour and your bag isn’t packed?” he asked.
“Well, you’d drive me to hospital, make sure they gave me the good drugs and then you’d race back home and pack everything quickly.”
Himself backed out the room slowly. “Oh no. We agreed – I’m decorating the nursery; you’re packing the hospital bag!”
Amy Lalouette lives with Himself (her very patient husband) and is expecting her first child (aka Slytherin Baby). By day she’s an English teacher and by night she reads, writes, holds murder mystery parties and does belly dancing. Unfortunately, all this interferes with her lifelong ambition to have a spotless house and an empty laundry basket! She records her experiences (and confusion) of expecting a baby on her personal blog “Mommy’s Off her Meds”.