one year ago today, i woke up 9 days past my due date, SO fed up with being pregnant that i fell into complete denial. after dropping clara off for school and taking a brisk walk, i returned home and went on a manic cleaning spree. i scrubbed every square inch of my house, including floorboards, in record time. to reward myself in the form of lunch, i tossed aside my midwife's instructions to stay away from sugar and high fat foods. SO WHAT if the creature in my belly was measuring extra huge. obviously, he was NEVER COMING OUT! so i called rodney at work and barked, "BRING ME AN AMY'S DARK CHOCOLATE MILKSHAKE. PRONTO." rodney dutifully dropped everything to deliver my lunch, returned to work, and i chugged most of the rich, frozen butterfat in a matter of minutes (and put the rest in the freezer.) a few minutes after that, i fell into a deep, dark chocolate sleep. i woke up feeling wretched, obviously from my choice of lunch. so what did i do? what any over-due pregnant woman in denial would do: i ate the rest of the milkshake. then, according to my email archive, i sent rodney the following missive: "thanks for the milkshake. i just polished the other half and i feel absolutely grotesque."

i don't recall many other details from the rest of the day, but i vividly remember going to bed in my gnome p.j. bottoms and my favorite, super soft, holey white tshirt. i knew something was happening and it wasn't just the continuing digestion of the milkshake. i knew that labor was beginning. so i sent rodney to the movies.