While we were dining at my parents’ house on Saturday night, I noticed a distinctly different feeling… down there. Call it pelvic pressure, call it baby breakdancing on my cervix, I had a pretty good idea of what was going on: Little B has begun to make his final descent into My Pelvis Airport. I had read about lightening, but it was always in that amorphous later portion of pregnancy that I would get to at some unknown point in the future. That unknown point has apparently arrived.
Of course, this means that we are getting a little bit closer to D-Day, still not knowing exactly when that will be. The part of me that would like my body back is close to being ready. The rest of me is not.
Still, everytime he sends shockwaves down my hoohah, I imagine some perky flight attendant in my uterus with the on board PA system chirping about tray tables in their upright and locked position and seat backs fully upright. Hopefully, they also covered the importance of keeping arms and legs inside the cabin at all times during final descent. Otherwise, it could be ugly.