Alternate post titles included:
“Get the Freak Outta My Body”
“Baby It’s not Cold Outside”
“Eviction Notice Served”
Seriously. It’s my due date. Right now. Today. I am in a terrible terrible mood. And I think I speak for majority of gals who have reached their due date when I say “let’s get this show on the road!”. I am so over being pregnant and just want to meet him already. I thought it would happen by now. I seriously did. And now that it hasn’t, that feeling of anxiety, frustration, mixed with a dash of failure and a pinch of annoyed-at-everything-and-everyone-to-degrees-beyond-belief is cookin’ in my heart.
I know I should be milking these last days of just having Will alone…these are few and precious and will never happen again. And the other side of me says – what if something goes wrong?! What if I am that rare 1 in a hundred thousand that dies during childbirth or afterward from complications? Shouldn’t I be thankful for these extra days with my Will and my Jeremy and this growing healthy baby in my belly? And shouldn’t I just be grateful that I even got pregnant and carried this guy with me for so long? I mean, we should have gotten pregnant right after Will…and didn’t….and then should have gotten pregnant that first year of ‘trying’….and didn’t…and the fact is – God gave us this amazing wonderful gift of getting pregnant again…no matter how long the wait, it is a huge huge blessing. So why am I so fickle? And selfish? And crazy?
Oh and snarky?! Every single time someone says something to me, I have this internal reply. Something rude to say back. Basically it goes a little something like this:
Them: I know you are ready to pop!
Me: Really? Do you also know when? Because those are two things that sometimes doctors have to decide for you. Oh and thanks for knowing the status of my cervix. That doesn’t creep me out at all.
Them: Any news yet?
Me: Why yes. I just had the baby on the floor of the shower. Will cut the cord right after he boiled some water and got me a stack of towels. And now I’m taking the time to reply to your text instead of calling 911. Seriously! Don’t you think I would discuss news if there was any? I mean, this is kinda the biggest thing in my life right now.
Them: Any contractions yet?
Me: Yup…for the last four months my uterus has had contractions…they are called Braxton Hicks. Is there any other uterus activity you would like to discuss?
Them: The baby will come when it’s ready.
Me: What about inductions then? Does that mean you are a terrible mother for getting him out before he’s ready?
Them: He just likes it in there.
Me: Since you know what my unborn child likes, could you bribe him out? Because all the other methods have failed.
Them: So when do you think the baby is gonna come?
Me: Don’t you think I wouldn’t be this snarky if I knew that?
Them: Wanna know what worked for us? I actually…
Yeah. I’m just a barrel of fun today. This sucks. I hate today. Off to drown my sorrows in carbs. And again with the futile attempts at getting labor started. Much happier kitchen post later today.
p.s. let’s face it…I can’t do a post without photos…here are some self-portrait-maternity pics just to put a little romance into this cruddy day…