Kickin' butt and taking names

Disclaimer: Forgive me in advance for not notifying you in person of this news. I have been told to rest, which to me means my mouth, which means I can type but am vocally challenged. :)

Apparently, Kate doesn't like to be told she has bad music taste. In fact, she was so annoyed that she decided that she's going to come on out and kick her papa's butt a bit. Yes, that's right folks, Kate has decided to make an appearance.

Tomorrow, we meet our little girl in person!

Our OB this morning said that my amniotic fluid has mysteriously disappeared. So, here, let me back up and talk about what a dunce I am.

There has been a trend established of me making very good observations and then not following through on them. The most glaring example was when my purse was stolen. (Mental observation on the way to the ladies room: "Huh, that guy looks out of place. Huh, he's just kinda standing there. Huh, he's just looking around but seems like he's here alone." Mental observation on the way from the ladies room: "Huh, that weird guy is sitting at the table and chair directly behind me but the bar is huge and empty." Mental observation when I reach for my purse on the chair back: "MY FREAKING PURSE IS GONE!") There is also the whole breech thing. And, now, let us add: LACK OF AMNIOTIC FLUID to the list.

This weekend, comments went something like this:

"Man, Daddy P, her head really just pokes out of my stomach now."

"Wow it is REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE when she moves. I never hear about it hurting for the baby to move."

"You can totally see all of her poking through my skin."

Uh, yeah. So, retrospective "duh."

So, doc says she's fine: good heartbeat, everything normal and looking good. She just doesn't have any room to swim. (Sorry, baby, for blaming you for not turning. Looks like it was an impossible task...) But, she doesn't want to risk waiting any longer than tomorrow. Risks of staying in exceed couple weeks of prematurity.

Which brings us to: October 2. Kate's b-day!

So today we spent packing our hospital bag (finally), going to Target to get stuff to pack in the hospital bag, and just generally getting our shit together. Amazing, huh? The most planned emergency c-section ever.

And, there is the very bad news that I had to save for the end... I won't be getting to see Katee, or Josh, or (sigh) Marc dance live and in person from the FOURTH ROW at the "So You Think You Can Dance" concert. I am crushed. Universe, why doth thou thwart me?!?!