It is the early morning of September 29, 2014. The day our little guy is due. Greg is now in the shower just in case he doesn't get to shower again in the next 48 hours. I'm now Googling about contractions that start on one side and if that means anything. I find message boards where women type in questions like, "I'm at 39 weeks and have a pain on my right side every five minutes. Do you think I have appendicitis?" I'm no doctor but I'm going with: YOU'RE HAVING A BABY. I get it though. I haven't previously felt the same agony that woke me just now so of course there is a part of me wondering if one of my major organs is failing. It is amazing how our minds can get in the way of our bodies and rationalize things pretty irrationally.
My parents are here, staying at a local B&B. We've all been sitting around staring at my belly for two days. My aunt and uncle are arriving today. As soon as I go into real labor Greg's parents and aunt will drive up and find a motel near by. At some point, Greg's brother and wife will show with our niece in tow and another on the way—she's due in February. We will text our close friends and colleagues as we head to the hospital and then, I guess, the show begins...
So when will the house open? When does the pre-show music start? As chaotic and flighty as the acting profession appears on most, there is a lot of precision at play. You all have to show up on time and you better be prepared or you'll bomb before you even begin.
I don't even know what piece we're performing. Where am I supposed to be and when? What are my lines? There is absolutely no way to prepare for what is about to be.