The baby’s arrival is imminent–my due date is less than two weeks away. Everyone keeps telling me Baby Owl could arrive at any time, but I’m trying to convince her to stay right where she is until at least the 25th, since my mom is scheduled to arrive in Riyadh on the 24th, and I very much want her to be here for the birth.
We’re making weekly visits to the doctor now. The last time we saw the doctor, she said, “I spoke to Iman”–our midwife–” today about you. We’re expecting to see you in the delivery room any day now!”
This proclamation has made Mr. Owl especially nervous, because he has two major work-related exams coming up in the next few days, and he has to leave his cell phone at the entrance of the testing center. So he’s worried about the tests themselves, as well as the possibility of me going into labor while he’s taking them. (When he expressed his nervousness about the tests, I patted my tummy and said to him, “Well, think of it this way–at least you’re not me. You know exactly what’s going to be on your test. You know what day it will happen. You know what time it starts, when you’ll have a break, and what time it will end. But me, it’s like for nine months, I’ve been preparing for this huge test. I don’t know exactly when it will start; I just have to wait and see. I don’t know how long it will last; it could be hours or days. And no matter how much I study for it, I don’t really have any clue what it’s going to be like. I don’t know how bad it’s going to be, or how much it’s going to hurt. Does that make you feel better?” Somehow, this did not soothe him. I can’t imagine why. The eighth month of pregnancy has turned me into a pretty unsympathetic confidante.)