So today’s that infamous due date.
And I’m not having a baby today.
For the longest time, I convinced myself that I was going to go over my due date. The chances were good that I would, and I figured it would help ease the impatience at the end. However, a few weeks ago, when the end was nearing, I started getting a bit panicky that it really didn’t feel close. It didn’t feel real (at all), and the closer it got, the less real it seemed. I started telling myself all the time how soon it would be, trying to pound some sense of the reality of it all into my silly hormonal brain, and after doing that, it did start to feel a *bit* nearer. The closer we got, the more ready we were, until a couple of days ago, when I erased the last item from the To-Do Before Baby list and instead just wrote “Have a Baby!”
And now we’re all ready, and I’m as impatient as anyone ever is on their due date.
So much for all the mind tricks.
So for now, I’ll continue to notice every twinge, ache, and pull, hoping something will start soon, but not daring to get excited about anything (but getting a bit excited anyway). I’ll continue to drag my full-moon belly out for walks where not only children, but now also adults, tend to gape, and I’ll probably continue to have weepy breakdowns when I wrap my egg rolls incorrectly or my computer cord gets stuck in the desk chair wheel. And I’ll continue to wait.