Unexpected

We’re now at D-Day + 1, which is not a thing I thought would happen.  I mean, I’m aware that only about 5% of babies are born on their due date, so I wasn’t expecting to actually give birth ON SATURDAY.  Maybe I was, subconsciously.  I guess I thought I’d be early, if anything, right up until we got to the last week and there were no signs of impending doom imminent labor.

40 weeks of pregnancy is a long time, guys.  I still feel good – I haven’t reached get-this-baby-out-of-me levels of irritation, but now I’m playing a waiting game, and it’s not my favorite.  Clearly this baby is a procrastinator, just like us.

Being late has started a few conversations with strangers.  We went for a walk on the beach Saturday night and this older guy stopped and asked when we’re due.  “Today” is not the response people expect.  “Yesterday” isn’t either, judging by the reactions I got from the women in the nail salon today.  (I felt I was safe to take the car and leave John at home long enough to get a manicure and get some groceries.)

My back ached for a little bit this evening, but I’d just been bending over, putting groceries away and taking cookies out of the oven (I want to bring some to the neighbors as a thank you and I’m planning on bribing nurses.  No, I’m not nesting.), so it could have been that.  It wasn’t accompanied by contractions.  We’ll see how tonight goes.

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