No baby today. What he lacks in size he makes up by rocking the non-stress tests.
I'm exhausted. I barely slept last night (third trimester insomnia?) and spent the entire day explaining 400 things to the new girl, which made both our heads spin. There is nothing like trying to train your replacement to make you realize how very complicated your job is, even though complicated is the last word you'd ever use to describe what you do. I called Phillip twice, once because I didn't want to do what I thought I had to do (reinstall Windows) and wanted him to tell me what I should do (which was reinstall Windows) and once to tell him no baby today. And both times he was certain I was in labor, coworkers cheering in the background.
Last night we went to Saxaphone Night at the University of Washington, a bunch of solo performances by undergrad saxaphone students. I can't remember the last time I was on campus and it's been years since I was in the school of music building, even longer since I sat through my last Saxaphone Night, watching my boyfriend play three movements of some concerto I've never heard of. I used to wish he'd play jazz, like any normal person who plays sax, but no, he studied classical saxaphone which meant I had to go to Saxaphone Night and symphonic band concerts and quartet performances and pretend I was enthralled. Phillip reeeeeally wanted to go and I think we're both feeling the "let's do everything we can possibly think of before the baby comes" pressure, so I agreed. As long as we left at intermission.
We sat in the back and made faces at the kids who were just there because they're taking Concert Series, which just means you go to random performances on campuses and write stupid reflection papers. For credit! The musicians were sweaty and nervous and I remembered Phillip being up on stage, with his pony-tailed piano player, his unfamiliar parents sitting across the auditorium. It occurred to me that I am ten years older than the freshmen. At intermission Phillip shook hands with his old saxaphone professor and introduced his wife and mentioned his almost-here baby and the two of them chatted about getting a real job and other students who've graduated and put their saxaphones aside. I wondered what a few of my professors are doing now. I ducked into the bathroom on the first floor and remembered ducking into bathrooms between classes, the cold metal doors installed into old brick walls. I remembered washing my hands and trying not to stare at the other college girls putting on lipstick and adjusting their clothes. I was so in awe of college. I never felt cool enough or urban enough or confident enough. I wanted to be the girls with the funky hair and the thrift store clothes and the bags full of interesting books. By the time I felt I'd arrived, it was time to graduate and now I'm old and married and expecting a baby. How did that happen?
I am so tired today. I passed off everything I know to the new girl. She is totally overwhelmed and I don't blame her. I want to say, "I tried to tell you what you were getting into..." Then I remember that everyone has a miserable first day, even if the person showing them around tries her hardest to make it easier. I'm suddenly possessive. These are my coworkers. This is my computer. These are my responsibilities. I may even miss a thing or two. I don't want to be replaced.
I've never felt so aware of impending change. Maybe when I got married. Phillip and I are what my neighbor once called "old fashioned". We went from recent college grads with crappy jobs who said goodnight over the phone to married and living together and fighting over how to properly load the dishwasher in one weekend. We had no idea what it would be like, but we were doing it anyway. My dad told me that getting married was one thing, but having me- that was what turned the world upside down. And I feel like, okay, fairly soon the world will be upside down. I'm just waiting.
I still don't want the baby to come early. My brother, father of two, says this is because I am not uncomfortable enough, just wait. I see his point. But I did feel a tiny bit of disappointment when the nurses sent me home tonight. Proud of my baby for acing the test, bummed that I had more ultrasounds and NSTs and furrowed doctor brows in front of me. It's going to happen sometime, right? I'm okay with it happening now.
I should write some thank you notes, but I think I'm going to crawl into bed. Poor Phillip. He must think I'm never going to make him dinner again.