Born 10 PM, Monday

In the past four days I have seen:

• My midwives twice
• 3 ER docs
• The inside of an MRI machine
• A neurologist
• A neuropthamologist

However, whatever weird thing is going on appears to be idiopathic. You know the joke: you have a pathology, and the doctor's an idiot.

Also my water broke this morning.

39 Weeks And Surprisingly Cheerful

Because there's nothing for one's cheerfulness like finally not having a knife-to-the-head headache.

(Caused, I should add, by eating too many Thin Mints*, which have milk in them,** in combination with a three-state-wide storm system. Not by anything bad. Except, you know, stupidity.)

Also, I ate half a jar of pickles tonight. Pickles are a vegetable, right?


* But I love them so very, very much.
** Very allergic to milk + The Mighty Snurfliness Of Pregnancy = Even Mightier Snurfliness + very bad headache.

Still Working, And Still Really Pregnant

The prime commandment is: Thou Shalt Not Blog From Work. This has, alas, prevented me from communicating with you fine people, because I am either at work, or tired.

Work is fine. I have not-too-boring things to do while I am waiting around to have a baby, which are also things nobody else wants to do, so everyone's happy. These things can be put down with a moment's notice. This is because I work with smart people.


***
My mother always says, when you can't bear to be pregnant for one more minute... you have a week or two left.

Monday, Dr. S and his lab went out for farewell-to-departing-postdoc drinks. I went along, chatted, and played with someone's dog; then we went out to dinner. I was cheerful and sociable.

Tuesday morning I woke up and thought, "I don't like this any more." I had a backache, a footache, and a rib ache (where the baby keeps whomping me with its pointy, pointy little knees). There was crankiness. There were frequent trips to the ladies' room. There was a feeling like Pumpkin was snuggling up on my bladder and then bouncing.

Thursday I went to the midwife, who did a (fun and exciting) internal exam because she could not find the baby's head. This was because the baby's head was all the way the heck down into my pelvis. I appear to be 90% effaced, among other things. Which explains that feeling.

My mother will be here this Thursday. I kind of hope Pumpkin doesn't show up before then. And then part of me kind of hopes Pumpkin will show up TOMORRROW.

In Which All's Well That Ends Well (At Work)

(No baby yet. Still whomping about happily inside, though.)

Last week at work my boss came by my office. "Um... your part-time work request was denied," said my boss.

"Really," I said.

You see, my plan was: have baby, stay home 12 weeks, work part-time 12 weeks. When I took my new job, it was with that understanding. (Did I get it in writing? No. So the moral of the story is, don't trust companies to not be stupid: get it in writing.)

Anyhow, not okay. I was mad. I was prepared to meet with people until someone said yes, or until there was nobody left to tell me no. I was prepared to raise hell. Then I was going to quit.

I met with several people who've been there a bit, and managed not to cry on them. "I'm really angry," I said, "and I know it was stupid not to get it in writing but I didn't think the company would be this stupid either."

I met with my boss. "I'm sorry," said my boss, "but it seems that's their standard policy." "It's not written in the policy book," I said. "I'm sure you can understand that from my point of view, this was the condition on which I accepted employment, and this situation is not acceptable." "Um," said my boss.

I met with my boss and my boss's boss. "HR seems very firm about this decision; they think it's important to learn as much as possible about bicycle repair in the first few months, and I don't think it's going to happen," said my boss's boss. "Thank you," I said. "I'll have a little chat with HR." "Um," said my boss's boss.

I set up a meeting with my boss, the person in HR, and that person's boss. And then my boss came by again. "Your part-time work.... is approved. Since, er, nobody can seem to remember who said what (I do, I thought!) and it seemed like you might consider leaving... we decided it was best."

"THANK you," I said. And the official form arrived the next day.

Proving that:

1) Working with smart people is great. I didn't have to threaten anyone! I didn't raise my voice once. The meanest thing I said was 'I find this unacceptable.'
2) If you really want something, and are stubborn as a pig, it's amazing what will happen.
3) I am, clearly, stubborner than a pig.

36 Weeks And Really Damn Tired

Also, we're moving all our stuff into another apartment on Sunday.

And that pretty much says it all.