I can't believe it...

I went to the doctor for my 34 week visit and had to start talking about labor! It made me very uncomfortable, as I am excited about the baby coming, but still thinking that I have at least 6 more weeks and that 6 more weeks is basically like 6 months which is basically like a year, which is basically like forever.

Now I realize that it could be as little as 3 weeks. I have begun the vital task of memorizing the "How do I tell if I'm in labor?" brochure my doctor gave me yesterday, as one of my biggest fears is calling the doctor too soon or too late. I had a woman in my pre-natal yoga class who got sent away from her doctor 3 or 4 times before they finally let her go to the hospital. She was a little bit high strung. However, I'm not going to throw stones, since between my husband and myself, we could very well get turned away 6 or 7 times. My doctor told me in a very severe elementary school teacher voice that she doesn't want to hear from me until contractions are 5 minutes apart and painful. Then she said, "remember those 3 things." I didn't ask what the third thing was, as I didn't want to admit that I was sort of tuning her out thinking, "I've got so much time, I'll never remember what she's saying now once the baby is actually coming." Oops. So now is penance, with my trying to memorize the brochure.

This weekend we aim to do a little bit more with the nursery, which is really coming along nicely. We talked about going ahead and opening some of the big boxes, like the one for our Graco travel set, with the stroller and carseat. I keep getting paranoid that there is no base in there for the carseat, but then forgetting to look. Then we need to open up the Diaper thingy. I never remember which one is which, but we have the one that doesn't require special refills, and can just use regular grocery bags. My husband is particularly concerned about our dog not being able to get into it, as she astounded us both the other night by somehow breaking into our lidded garbage can that stands a good four inches above her petite beagle frame, and feasting on roughly 11 or 12 chicken wing bones. She seems alright health wise, but the clean up was sticky and icky, and we can only imagine what might happen with baby mess...