Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

✗ sixty-four ✗

"Like what? Are you kidding me?" She exclaims, poking her head from the doorway. "How about your baby shower!"

That's today?

Moxy has been furiously planning a baby shower for me and the little girl residing in my stomach. Honestly, she's treating this baby shower as I would a work function. There have been many days where she's rung up my work phone to talk sweets, decorations, food selections, registry for gifts, among other things I had no idea went into baby shower planning. She is definitely more excited for this than I am.

"I can't believe that's today. I'm thirty-four weeks already?" I exclaim, placing my hands onto the swollen hump that's been causing me troubles at night. I can't find a comfortable sleeping position and do not even get me started on the crazy hormone switches she has been causing me lately.

I can't believe she'll be here in about a month's time. I am ready for her to be here, for the sole reason that I will finally look a reasonable size and I won't have to get up to pee thirteen times a night and I can eat and drink whatever the hell I want, but I don't think I'm completely ready for her arrival.

Harry and I have brushed on the subject of what type of birth we want to have and where we want to have it and who will be there. Harry is quite keen on the idea of a home birth with a midwife present, but I'm not quite sure I'm comfortable with that. I don't take pain exactly well and giving birth without meds, which can be better for the baby and cause less complications, just doesn't sound like something I'm up for or maybe it is. I'm partial to having her at the hospital, but as always Harry and I are still being stubborn.

Then we've yet to have the home ready yet. Her nursery is getting there, sort of. Okay, not really. We've been busy. The room still needs to be painted, the furniture needs to be put together, the clothes need to be washed, the nappies and other supplies need to be stocked, and much more.

Pray that after Harry and I fix things tomorrow we can get working on these things so that I can focus on just having her.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Sorry, too busy stressing." I admit, making a mental checklist of all the things I have to get to. I swear I should have been preparing more over the summer when I wasn't busy, rather than now when I am über busy. "What did you say?" Moxy gives me this deadpan look with two different dresses in her hands.

"Stop stressing, everything will work itself out. And I asked which one you'd rather wear. This beautiful navy, bodycon striped dress from the wondrous maternity selection at TopShop, paired with an adorable pair of flats from the collection right here in your closet. Or this other TopShop extravagant dress, black in colour with a large floral print paired with the adorable pair of tan, suede sandals that I just purchased for you yesterday?"

"Black dress, suede shoes." I answer in short, seeing the dress draped over her arm. I knew there was a reason that I had Moxy planning this entire shower, from the food to my outfit.

"Perfect, I was hoping you'd answer that way." Again, she's thought into this too much. "I need you to get your cute bum into the shower and then stay in this room, I cannot have you peeking on all the surprises downstairs. Text me when you're finished, I'll braid your hair and do your makeup."

I swear it's like we're back in secondary school sometimes. All we do when we see each other is gossip, do our hair and makeup, and then eat like it's nobody's business.

"Hip, hop, Shay, we haven't all day!"

&&&

"Can I go downstairs now?"