Baggage

After weeks of denial, I've had to face the fact that despite my best efforts, there is a very slight, off chance that just because my doctor, hospital, family and I are in agreement about when She-Blob is to join the ranks of humanity, and even though all said plans were made in range of what must now be her fully-developed ears, does not necessarily, 100% guarantee that she's in on the plan. So should I pop ahead of schedule, we finally decided to pack a bag.

Packing for the hospital is akin to planning for a vacation - just without the anticipation of having a great time. For me, this involves some changes of underwear, leisure wear (preferably with draw-strings), slippers, toiletries, magazines, games, music, snacks (in case I get peckish during my surgery?), and an outfit to wrap the souvenir package in for home delivery. Bree also gets to tote every tourist's must have - the camera. All we're missing is some fanny packs and our passports.

Last night, I bit the bullet, pulled out my duffel bag and packed. I also updated my ipod, gathered electronics and chargers, and prepped an extensive pile of clothes to launder.

I'm no more ready to birth, but I did succeed in upsetting our dog, who knows that duffel bags lead to no good.