A Jello kind of day

I rarely lose my appetite. I'm not a person who stresses easily. Type B, roll with everything as it comes. 

But there I was, standing in my kitchen, fridge door open, with lots of food and nothing to eat. I subsisted on the jello left over from my bridal shower for the three days leading up to my wedding because that was a big, DIY production. I had just finished my first year of teaching the week before, running around trying to get all the last details together now that school was out for the summer, and jello was the only thing I could stomach. 

Fast-forward to the week before B was born. I thought he'd be early like his big sister, but he ended up being 3 days late. The waiting for a baby's arrival is all consuming in that last stretch of time. The familiar sense of just waiting for the big day to come, and not really knowing what to do with myself in the meantime, jello was an old friend to that nervous tummy. 

These past few days have been jello sort of days. 

The clock moves at the same speed it always does, but it seems fast and slow all at once. I have no idea what this trip will be like. Just like birth, anything you read, hear, watch, none of it will describe your experience that lies ahead. 

At least I can draw on my experience of anticipating the unknown? 

Maybe I'll have some more jello.