5 days and counting until D day. The nursery is done, all the baby's clothes/blankets/misc. stuff are freshly washed and put away, teeny tiny diapers and wipes are ready in the drawer, hospital bag is in the car, babysitters for Annie are on stand-by, the baby car seat is ready to go, and work has been pretty much fully transitioned. All we need to do now, (and I use the term 'we' generously) is HAVE THIS BABY! As of last Monday, I
was only 1.5 cm dilated, but- as is the nature of all of this- anything
can happen at any minute. ...Aaaand, this minute would be nice!
In
classic 'Amy style', I have made this whole thing that much more
torturous by being totally sure that I would have her early. I said I
didn't want a December baby, so obviously the little lady would obey...
Add that to the fact that I have been having cramps for the last 2 weeks, and I have convinced myself daily that 'today is the
day'. Alas, the cramps seem to be doing little more than annoying me and
my daily disappointments have just served to make me that much grumpier. I really think I must be the world's worst pregnant person. I wish I was
that wonderfully glowy pregnant lady, but all I am is a whiny, swollen,
grumpy curmudgeon. Michelle Duggar, I am not!
It's funny, I am so ready and DONE at this point that my labor fears are almost completely gone. Guess that's all part of the cosmic plan: Get you to the point where nothing could be worse than pregnancy prolonged, and the idea of labor becomes completely do-able.
So,
the way I see it, very worst case scenario we have 2 weeks left until baby. If I don't
go into labor on my own, the doctor would induce between a week and 10
days after my due date, which would put us in the hospital on or around
Brad's birthday. I really was hoping to not have another December
birthday in the house but not so sure I have much control over that at
this point. ...The best laid plans...
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