No Little Man Yet

Today is Friday. The eighth. That, mind you, means it is three days past my due-date. Three days beyond the hoped for day. Three days more of carrying a huge mass inside. Could I get used to being pregnant eternally? Possibly. But it would be far from preferred. Three days might not sound like much. But, if you’ve been very immensely pregnant before you know how much that is. Avi was two days late, and although she was late, I was in labor from the end of her due date. In otherwords, I knew she was coming. Yet now, although little Johnny John Johnston still could enter this world tonight, I have no clue. I just wait. I wait biggly.

Who lied to us in the first place, declaring pregnancy to be only nine months? They sure seem evil, whoever they are! 40/4 really does equal 10. Ten months, yep. I CAN do math (sometimes). Of course, that isn’t exactly counting those funky 5 week months, but who counts those when you are measuring in weeks anyways? They just want us to feel like its less time so we don’t go crazy earlier. That way we are already nine months along (36 weeks) before we realize we actually have another month (at least) to go. And by then, the baby could be born at 37 weeks and we think “I can do one just more week!” And then the baby isn’t born, so we think, “well, maybe this week….” and then its “well maybe next week…”etc…. Its kinda mean that they give us about 5 weeks we can deliver in. Five whole weeks of uncertainty and hope, of it being just dandy if that baby comes at any time. By the time the due date comes you’ve been thinking, “heck! I could have had this baby 3 weeks ago already!” Then who in blue blazes is going to want to stick around until week 42? No one! Nadie!

So, of course they will induce me on Monday if he still hasn’t appeared. But I do not prefer that. I would prefer his body, my body, and whatever hormones that need to get going to create that perfect cocktail to kick this process into gear. I want those hormones to pour through out my veins crying “May-day, May-day . . . Free little human up! Free big mama up!” Or whatever those hormones say to get this going.

Honestly, there is so much to be thankful for. From having multiple nights left of good sleep, to having more time with my husband, daughter, my mom, and my good friends before baby is born. I have had to rest this week, which has driven me crazy doing so little, but its been good for me. Josh finished his class and final and has been able to not have to worry about that for a few days while baby still hasn’t come. I’ve tried all those natural methods to get little guy out, and he is stubbornly set in (well not caster oil-yuck!). So in the meantime my skills in patience have been forced to grow, along with my trust in God that His timing is better than mine. After all, I probably would have had him at week 37 if it was my choice. So, in the meantime I still wait. I try not to be bitter as I wait. I try to happily wait being content in all situations. Em-hum. Cough. On that note, maybe I should take another walk and eat more pineapple now. Later!

(Video of Avi sliding)


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