Okay, to be fair, my mom is pretty much always nervous. In fact, I think it’s her default state to be nervous. Part of that is because of all the turmoil and terror she experienced living in a poor, rural village in Vietnam, then being there for the war, then entering the U.S. and being treated like crap by her mother-in-law and her new family she married into. But part of it, sometimes, feels like she just looks for things to be nervous or anxious about. We’re currently in week 35 of my pregnancy, and she said she’s getting anxiety about my going into labor. She kept asking questions today about whether we had everything ready – safe place for baby to sleep, diapers, changing area. She asked if there was food for us to eat in our freezer. She expressed remorse again that she wouldn’t be here to help prepare nourishing postpartum foods for me. She asked again (maybe because she inherently thinks men are useless… since that seems to be a favorite topic of hers concerning my dad in the last nine months regarding the two babies she birthed) to confirm that Chris was, in fact, planning to take time off in the beginning to help. She said she’s basically on standby waiting to hear news about when I will pop. And it’s highly unlikely that when this does happen that I’m going to call her between contractions to announce, “Hi, Mommy! Guess what — I’m in LABOR!”