Or go into labor. Every morning for the past month or so, I approach my getting ready routine with the notion that today might be THE DAY. For some reason, the whole "wear clean underwear because you might get hit by a truck" adage is stuck in my mind. Usually, I am pretty lazy about shaving my legs unless I know they are going to show, to save time in the shower. Lately, I am pretty darn good about taking my time in the shower and taking a swipe with the razor nearly every day. I only wear my "good" underwear (I actually just went ahead and trashed most of what I considered "bad" underwear, one shouldn't be wearing "bad" underwear anyway).
I am also trying to take better care of my hair and nails. Last weekend, I decided I was a flygirl: "get your nails done, get a pedicure, get your hair did." (thanks to Missy "midemeanor" Elliot for the wording there, and to the Flylady for giving the phrase a double meaning). That was me. The gals around me joked that I was being silly by trying to impress my docs. As I explained to them (and to the doctor at my appointment, much to her amusement) I wasn't trying to impress the doctors. I was just trying to not embarass myself. I don't think the doctor cares that my toenails are "Grand Canyon Sunset" pink, but I would care if they were too long and bearing yucky too-old polish and my feet were callused and rough. They are, after all, going to be pretty much in the doctor's face for some period of time, and I don't need to worry about being embarassed when I should be concentrating on pushing. And I am much better off with nicely manicured nails than my usual not-taken-care-of scraggly things that might hurt or scratch the baby. Ditto with the hair -- the shorter cut is easier to style, yet still ponytail-able, so it should make my routines easier in baby's first month.
It's odd that I never thought that taking care of me was a priority; that I thought I could let myself go because my work, my house, my marriage, were all much more important. Being hospitalized (and embarassed by hairy legs!) earlier in the pregnancy, plus realizing that I have to take care of myself in order to really be able to take care of a baby (and my work, and my house, and my marriage) has been quite an epiphany.