Waiting

We are in the eighth month of pregnancy, the hardcore nest-building stage. It reminds me of a couple of things, which it probably shouldn't. The first is when our cat gave birth when I was a teenager and she spent ages going all over her territory looking around and sitting in new and interesting places trying to find somewhere comfortable to birth. I wasn't quite sure how aware of being pregnant our cat was, but clearly, she got the hang of it and managed to deliver her litter behind the curtains in the lounge.
We tried out the birthing pool on Sunday, which was great fun. It's like an enormous paddling pool, so whilst everyone was outside in the park reading the papers in the sunshine, we lounged about in our front room in a big old paddling pool with extra high and wide sides (and some handles you can hang onto whilst in labour). I can see that it was a brilliant investment. Pool in a Box are the company if anyone's interested.
The second thing I was reminded of is the story of when Rosa was a wee one, how she made a "white castle". Legend has it that her parents came home to find talcum powder everywhere and toilet rolls slung up all over her bedroom and a happy, busy Princess in the middle of it all, making her white castle. Awwwww!

Our flat is about as fully equipped as it could be now, and except for my responsibilities of making the mix tape (well, mp3s and CDs) of music to birth to, it's just a question of waiting for the Big Day to arrive. Waiting and waiting and waiting.
ETA May 10th.