Oh the glorious joy of going past your due date. The constant badgering, the continued stares of strangers and subsequent grilling of said due date (and veritable shock worn on their face when revealed), the non-existent comfort, the complete amazement of most that you haven’t called it quits and asked for an induction.
Though I somewhat jest in my overly stated truths, this is the glimpse of what it’s like, folks.
In truth, I am perfectly content to remain gestating this cherub until she deems fit to make her arrival. I am not that uncomfortable, today is truly one of the first nights that I’ve had trouble staying asleep, I have no plans to speak of that are impeded upon (unless you count another deep-clean of my house set to ensue once everyone wakes today), and I’ve been able to get countless errands done that I know would have been otherwise impossible.
She says through rose-colored glasses.
My practice will only allow me to go until 41 weeks so rest assured, she will be here within the next few days. Scout arrived at just this gestational count giving me some hope that today could be the day. Though, let’s be honest, I say that every day.
No pictures to speak of, perhaps that will be on the docket today.
Soon and very soon!