This is the time in every pregnancy that you're done. D.O.N.E. Put a fork in me done. The discomfort has set in, sleep ceases to exist, the pressure of baby is mounting, and waddling is oh so evident. This is the time when your colleagues ask, "are you still here?" every.single.day. The time when you have to pee a teaspoon every hour and wish you had a catheter, or at least a bathroom 5 feet from your desk.
Miss Abigail arrived 5 days early. Will her brother? Will he be like his Daddy and take his time? Many of you recall Tim not being so punctual as a result of this phenomenon called Timmy Time. Abby's delivery was quite text book (cover your eyes and skip to the next paragraph if you get grossed about by bodily functions) in nature. We had an internal at our 38 week appt, lost the mucus plug two days later, and went into labor two days after that. Will Baby P decide to do the same or stay nice an cozy for two additional weeks?
It's also the time when you are anxious to really meet your new bundle of joy. The anticipation of learning if he will be a red head or brunette (or blonde?!) with blue eyes or brown. Will he be a good sleeper or not-so good? It's the time you realize the newborn stage goes by in a blink and you want to soak it all up before going back to work.
For now, let's hope I've jixed myself and will be in labor in about a week. Please.
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