This baby should know something about his mama: She’s a journalist. Which means 1) she’s sarcastic as hell (get the picture? ;) ) and 2) she really really hates blowing deadlines. And due dates.
Whichhhh….brings me to today’s doctor’s appointment. Wherein my doctor told me that yes, I’m officially overdue and no, I’m making “no progress” on this baby coming out anytime soon. (I’m not even like, a centimeter dilated.) Sigh. I’d like to say I expected him to tell me differently, but the truth is, I’ve accepted that I have a stubborn kid (or, as I’d prefer to think it, a kid who is so laid-back, he’s content to be the last one to show up for his own birthday party).
We have an induction date set for early next week (and I’ll be honest, I’m a bit intimidated at being induced…so all you formerly induced mamas of cute kiddos out there, leave me some reassuring words about the process, would ya?), which means I know FINALLY that by next week at this time, I’ll be holding my son in my arms.
At this point, the idea of that feels so surreal. Because I think I’ve honestly convinced myself I’m going to be pregnant forever. Over pancakes at IHOP on Sunday, I gave Nick my best forlorn look, sighed, and told him, “I feel like this is never going to end.” Around a mouth full of biscuits and gravy, Nick came back with, “You’re right. He’ll be turning six and we’ll be singing him ‘Happy Birthday’ in the womb.’” (Did I mention he’s a sarcastic journalist, too?)
Last night, as we were watching the presidential debate, Nick leaned over my stomach and whispered, “It’s really awesome out here. And if you come out soon, your dad will buy you a Nintendo Wii.” Me: “Did you just bribe our kid with a present when he hasn’t even been born yet?” Nick: “Maybbeeee….” Drastic parenting measures, I tell ya…
In the meantime (and do understand this is the late pregnancy hormones bringing out a bit of an attitude) I’m over the sympathetic smiles I get from people these days. The way the woman at the grocery store whispered to my husband, “She’s due any day now isn’t she?” and the exclamations of “You’re still here?” from well-intended coworkers who can’t believe I’m working right up to — and apparently past—the ‘ol due date. Also over? All the ways in which people are encouraging me to bring on labor. Long walks? Check. Spicy food? Check. Seaweed injections into the cervix? Uhhhhh …. yeah, not so much.
While I’d intended this month’s self-portrait to be a shot of me with a newborn in my arms, instead I’ll save that for next month’s image. Because while October will still be my little guy’s birth month (at least, that’s what the doctor tells me!), I have to say, I feel like what I’m going to remember about so much of it is the tedium of these final days of pregnancy, wherein we’re still (ever so anxiously) waiting for our world to change.