I think I mentioned before how superstitious I am. When I was growing up, I'd follow the same routine if my softball team was winning or I was hitting well - everything from eating the same food, not washing my uniform and wearing the same clothes down to my underwear. This continued when Max was little - whatever worked for him to have a good night's sleep: I'd try to replicate it exactly - the number of books read, the amount of milk he drank, the lighting in the room, music, the number of blankets... I know a bit obsessive.
Well, yesterday was the "day" during my pregnancy that Maximo was born. Coincidentally (or not), I ended up in the hospital yesterday with pressure and contractions. I don't think it was psycho-somatic, but really, who knows. Lola is fine and my cervix is still long and closed, so that was reassuring, but I'm still feeling pressure like I did with Maximo. So, I'm going to take the next few days off of work and I'm taking anti-contraction medication. I really just want to make it at least 4-5 weeks more. I've at least made it past "30 weeks and 6 days". I remember when Maximo was born, all I wanted to get past was September 3rd (the day my dad died). I don't know why, superstition perhaps, but I was worried the whole day, like this was just a day of doom and he was going to be taken too. Luckily, it was an uneventful day (as uneventful as the NICU was then) and I hope Lola hangs out in the womb for a wee bit longer. I go back to the doctor on Wednesday to see how the babe and the infamous incompetent cervix are doing. I'll tell you one thing, this body is not made for pregnancy.