Baby's definitely dropped. Ursula, who may be our favorite of the four midwives in the practice (I don't know if it's the charming German accent or the unexpected sense of humor or what but she is so cool) told us so yesterday: "Ze baby ees quite low. She ees down zere." Not that I needed an announcement, really. When someone's head is riding along in your pelvis you pretty much know it.
Anyhow, no signs of labor yet. I still have no idea what Braxton-Hicks contractions should feel like, or how grody the whole mucus plug thing will be, or how dramatic the water-breaking thing should be (although Mom informs me that her water never broke with any of us, so it seems I might have to diagnose labor without the most helpfully definite sign of it. I feel gypped. I mean, come on, on TV births the water always breaks and splashes all over the floor and that's how they know to panic. How will we cope without that?)
So, this week the big project has been getting ready for the untimeable inevitable. Made a packing list, started packing the hospital bag. Made a shopping list for things to take with us and went shopping: juice, Gatorade and Propel fitness water (since I really do hate Gatorade), some healthy snacky easily digestible things, and the irreplaceable A & D ointment for the baby's butt (parenthetical note: it still looks odd to me to see it in a tube instead of in those little free sample packs we grew up with, which seem to me still today to be its most natural packaged form). Bought a little lavendar outfit Brent liked for her going-home outfit as his liturgical side kicked in and objected to taking her home in just any ol' onesie. Charged up the digital camera and deleted all old files on it so we can fill it up with adorable baby pictures. Made a people-to-call list, drafted an announcement email and the Cool Lutheran Neighbors to send it out for us, and added them as a blogger here to post the news here as well. Went to a La Leche League meeting and borrowed the local chapter's Womanly Art of Breastfeeding from their lending library and have started perusing it. Made an appointment with a pediatrician for tomorrow afternoon. Watched the birthing DVD Maria lent us yet again, and still cried, again, at the first birth (that one is just so awesome!)
What else is there to do? Faithfully keep up with the prenatal yoga. And just...wait. But "I hate waiting" and it makes me feel like I want her to just hurry it on up; then again, we need to hang on at least till Mom gets here! It's not that I'm scared of doing this without her, but just that both of us would be so bummed if she missed it.
Overall, though, I still feel like I'm gearing up for a big soccer tournament or something. Anticipating it, preparing mentally and physically, thinking of it like a great big sporting event that I of course will inevitably win after a stellar and inspiring performance "on the field." But I would probably be content to have the baby named MVP.