|We're very big girls.|
I have been pregnant for a full 40 weeks.
My due date was Saturday. Obviously, Ms. Baby did not grace us with her presence. Instead of giving birth, I slept late. Then I did some shopping, met up with my parents and Levi to browse plants, bought fennel and a nice terra cotta pot (that Levi carried for me), ate lunch, walked everywhere, browsed old things with Levi, folded and put away laundry, took a nap, and went out to dinner with friends.
The technical term for a due date is "estimated date of delivery" and the baby is taking her sweet time. She clearly does not care about anyone's estimates.
Naturally, I've decided to blame Cody. He's pretty laid-back and not especially prompt and I think he's passed on his genes to our daughter. I cracked myself up last night thinking of the baby finally getting here after an induction and saying some of Cody's stock phrases (complete with hand gestures) like, "I was going to get around to it. You didn't have to do it yourself." or "I don't see why you're making a big deal out of this." Cody was a little less amused than I was. Yes, I know it was my fault just a few short posts ago.
Our baby-lessness aside, it's been a good week. Sunday was a shorter workday than I expected, Monday was my last day of work after eight straight days of a lot of stress, intensity, and computer/system unkindness (and some overtime), Tuesday was my first day off and I got a pedicure. On Wednesday, we went to the doctor and I found out I may weigh the most out of all my siblings and went over exciting induction options with my doctor. It was also the day Cody and I celebrated being married for 4.5 years! We both agreed that it feels like much longer, but I think it's because this time together has been so action-packed.
Or something. (Humor me.)
On Thursday, I moved around in a fog and got a baby bag from Sara. By Friday, sluggish relaxation lost its appeal and I started frantically running errands, doing laundry, and cleaning my house. Seriously, things were pretty hardcore. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I felt productive but I did things without a schedule and without a rush. But by Friday, I was going after projects with a vengeance. I even swept the sidewalks, and I really dislike sweeping sidewalks. I also might have gotten on my hands and knees to scrub parts of the bathroom floor. (It didn't make a difference.)
On Saturday, I tried to be super-active even after Mom told me I couldn't work the baby out. I basically just made myself tired and that made me less-equipped to deal with remarks, texts, Facebook comments, etc. etc. etc. from every member of the world about if I thought I'd have the baby within the next hour or so.
Then I repeated it for Sunday. I couldn't sleep, ran errands, took pictures of things, and gave the death stare to two different men. One was a salesguy in Barnes & Noble who saw me browsing war movies and said "We have some infant and toddler stuff over there. You know, lullabies...." like I'm incapable of thinking about anything beyond baby DVDs. Another was a man with a child at the Capitol. I had taken some pictures of the tulip trees and was ambling back to my car, just enjoying the weather. He smiled at me and yelled "You're about to pop!" like I had no idea I was carrying around a full-sized baby. I gave him a look of exasperated contempt and a sarcastic thumbs-up. He is so lucky to have had that kid with him.
The rest of the day went much better. Cody and I watched a movie and planted seeds in containers on our porch. And ate Chinese food, which is always lovely. And I napped, which is all I've really wanted out of this vacation anyway.
I am very tired. I am very achey. I am very short-tempered and not in the mood to hear that people are impatient to meet my baby. I'm sure she'll get here when she gets here (the motto of the future grandparents--who you'd think would be the most rabid baby-fans of all. But they know me too well to be annoying), and to be a day or two past a due date isn't the same as shamefully missing a deadline. She'll get here and we'll have her forever and it will be awesome. Okay, fine, I'm just a little impatient for her to get here, too.
While I can't get over my surprise that she didn't come last week (or even the week before), I don't want to rush her. I'm not thrilled with the idea of medical interventions for inducing, and I scheduled my next appointment as late into the week as I could (Wednesday) to give her a little more time to arrive on her own. Until then, I'm going to enjoy my little vacation and go on as many dates with Cody as I can. I have to confess, though, that I do get excited with all these belly pains, and then a little disappointed when they turn out to just be the baby's movements. I think she's getting a little uncomfortable with this arrangement, too. She pushes for more space and she pushes hard. I think she'll like life on the outside.
This is what I read about her this week: "It's hard to say for sure how big your baby will be, but the average newborn weighs about 7 1/2 pounds (a small pumpkin) and is about 20 inches long. His skull bones are not yet fused, which allows them to overlap a bit if it's a snug fit through the birth canal during labor. This so-called "molding" is the reason your baby's noggin may look a little conehead-ish after birth. Rest assured — it's normal and temporary." (Source.)
I watched The Business of Being Born on my due date (probably not my best idea ever) and was surprised at how 'strange' some of the babies' heads looked before I remembered that not everyone can be a cute c-section baby like I was. Or as cute as I was, period. Then I remembered that I packed a few hats in her hospital bag so we should be fine if she's embarrassed by a little temporary lumpiness. Those sweet little bows I picked up at Target this weekend can wait until she's evened out a little bit (there's even a black one for more formal occasions! So sophisticated).
Everything in its own time.