Single digits...still no Tanner

Ah yes, at last, instead of waiting for it to only be 3 months, 12 weeks, 9 weeks, blah, we are down to single digit days before this little man has truly overstayed his welcome in Mommy's belly. He has been pretty quiet so far this morning after being a small tornado in there the last few days. Perhaps he is getting frustrated, too?
Last night was the big hospital tour for Mr. and Mrs. W, followed by a trip to the Chinese buffet that had me up in the middle of the night in tears. I am not even sure what did it. I guess the garlic. I really didn't eat much that was exotic. Some pot stickers and won ton soup. A few pieces of chicken, crab rangoon and a spring roll. Oh wait...the spicy mustard. That had to be it. I can throw back some hot mustard, but this was really hot. Even Mr. W agreed and he doesn't think that much is spicy, so I know it wasn't just "pregnant me" talking. I put a ton on a spring roll, took a bite and about lost my breath. My eyes were watering. That had to be it. The mustard is guilty. It actually tasted a lot more like wasabi than mustard.
So the hospital tour is the real subject today. Let me start by saying it was probably not a bad idea. It didn't take long, they showed us where everything we might need will be, gave the rundown on what you can and can't do, visitor info, rules for "Dad"-which is basically not much, showed us where the natural birth people, c-section people and epidural people go and the temp nursery. The one thing I managed to retain is that we do not allow anyone without a yellow badge to take the baby. The one thing Mr. W retained is that there is a bar open on the corner that serves food. He also retained the fact that they want me to walk in from the garage while I am in labor and not be dropped off. Sounds very pleasant. It better not be pouring rain or this new mom will be pretty unhappy.
We also found out that Dad can give the baby his first bath right there in the room. We can actually have a nurse give him instructions on this. Maybe he will be more open to taking instructions from a medical professional. Sounds great to me.
I just can't wait to watch him try to scrub off some "tar" poop, too. I think Dad will also need diapering instructions from the nurse. Yep, having someone else tell him how to do some of these things correctly is just about the most ideal situation I could have hoped for. Once we get him home, of course, all bets are off and I can see Mommy handling 95% of these tasks, but again, it's good for him to know how.
So our group was fairly small. There were a total of four couples. Mr. W and I were both pleased that we were the younger half of this group, even at our ripe old age of over 30. They gave us plenty of material for discussion once we were out of the building, too. Couple A was the youngest of the group. They probably were in their early to mid 20s. I couldn't help but be amused as you could certainly tell that this was not a planned pregnancy(no rings, the guy looked like his dog had just died...there are ways of telling), and what do you know? They are having twins. Girls, to be exact. The girl let us know that even though she is due next month, she is 3cm dilated. I now also have a visual picture of her cervix, so that's helpful. I also hate her because she will probably beat me to the finish line. I think these must be small twins, though. She really didn't look all that big.
Next we have Couple B or more specifically, couple B and their 4 year old. Mom looked like she was probably about my age, maybe had a year or two on me. Probably younger to be honest, since she already has a kid to make her age. Mr. W, however, was a good bit younger than this father to be, who looked like white Urkel. Pretty much a goof. Mr. W swears they are Jewish. Not sure how he came to that conclusion, but fine. They are having another girl. They already have one that doesn't pay attention, talks a lot, climbs all over stuff and wanders off without her parents in a new, strange place. Good luck to them.
Finally, we have Couple C. Jackpot. When we made it into the garage, we immediately found out that we both thought they were grandparents when we walked in. Mr. W had them pegged at 40 and 45, I was thinking 45 and 50. Somewhere in between was probably most accurate. This woman is due in 5 days and the sooner they get that baby out, the better. I can't believe they haven't induced her, yet. Good Lord, where do I start? Dad looked like a new grandpa, or maybe the father of the most white trash kid you knew in high school. Mom looked like a short frumpier version of Winona Judd. They are also having a girl. Mr. W said she was his mistress, but I disagree. I heard her asking about what they would do with his kids were she to have the baby late at night. You see, they have a certain amount of people allowed in delivery, but after that, when they move you to your room, if it ain't visiting hours, the crowd has to leave. That sounds great to me. This woman was trying to figure out what they would do with his spawns. I forgot to mention that they told us that this is her first and his fourth. He promptly interjected with questions about how many people can be there, do they get the sports networks in the delivery room, and a few other things I tried to ignore. As we loaded into the elevator, I noticed her feet. My feet have swollen, but I have never seen anything like this. This woman had ankles the size of my thighs and only a wrinkle where her heel started. She looked awful and I kept wondering why in the world someone hadn't gotten this baby out, yet. She also told us that she herself is getting jaundice and Mr. Judd told us the baby was 9 pounds. Yep, TMI from Couple C right out of the gates. As we went down the hallway making stops here and there, I heard her panting and gasping for air and realized that despite my hips feeling like they are dislocating, I wasn't winded at all. For that, I was thankful. I was so glad when the tour was over because I didn't have to worry about her collapsing right there.
So that sums up our trip to the hospital and the other couples that we could be. Yes, I was quite proud of who we are when we walked out of there. Only a few days to go(at least, I certainly should hope) and if he isn't here by Monday, we'll get to check out his size and figure out what comes next with the doctor. Did I mention how much I like my doctor? After seeing the Judds and that woman's condition, I can say with certainty that he would not let a patient get to that point. How do I know? Because he told me what he would do to help me out, and I just realized how healthy I am and how healthy this pregnancy is. Does that mean I am wanting to go past my due date? Not really. But if I do, I will think of Winona and know it isn't that bad.