Ever come across those women who claim they just looove being pregnant? That it makes them feel empowered and sexy and strong? (If you haven’t, try your local yoga studio or Whole Foods grocery store.)
I’m calling their bluff.
Today is my due date, and Lord help me, I can’t get this baby out of me fast enough. I am so over this whole pregnancy thing. Unfortunately, I don’t think labor and delivery are on my baby’s agenda today. We’re going to have to have a little chat about the importance of punctuality once she arrives, because this whole late thing just doesn’t fly with me.
I know, I know. The Due Date is fairly arbitrary, just the 40-week mark when the baby could healthily arrive anywhere between 38-42 weeks. (42 weeks? Kill me now.) How many times was I warned not to attach myself to this day, to simply use it as an approximation? That besides, first babies are almost always late? When people used to ask about my due date, I would casually respond, “Mid-November”, proving myself uncommitted to any specific day. I knew better than that. But in reality, November 17th was emblazoned in my mind.
How could it not be? But for me, November 17th didn’t represent the day my baby would be born. Rather, it represented the day that my baby would absolutely have already been born by. Once I learned 37 weeks was considered full term, it was game on. This is my kid after all. Naturally she’d be a Type-A overachiever and show up early! And if she hadn’t inherited those genes yet, then by gosh, I was going to will her out of me before that due date. Being late was not an option.
I’m sure experienced parents are laughing at me right now. My mother has reminded me several times that my brother was 11 days late. My yoga instructor had the same story – 11 days with one of her sons. My aunt was 3 weeks late! Someone very cruelly just informed me that some women have been up to 5 weeks late! (Thankfully, the hospital will schedule an induction during the 41st week if need be, though that still feels like an eternity away.)
Baby may not be exhibiting my proclivity for promptness, but she is displaying one of my other defining characteristics: Stubbornness. No matter how desperate I am for her to not be in my belly anymore, she isn’t giving any signs that she is ready to leave. So for the time being, I wait. And I blog.
If I’m still here tomorrow (as opposed to the labor and delivery unit at my hospital) – and I have a feeling I will be – I will share with you the most depressing doctor’s appointment ever. I bet you can’t wait!