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!
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