Forget about Monday folks.
Today may just be Labor Day for me!
Let me just take a second to say, how in the world is the lady in that picture so big and not have a stretch mark?! I am pissed.
Watch out...it's about to get gritty....this is my due date picture from last Thursday, complete with stretch marks. This is real life people.
I'm not happy about it, as you can see by my furrowed brow.
So I put my shirt down and took another, less tiger-striped picture.
Anyway, back to my reason for the post...
Today I head to the doctor's office again. I have to leave in 20 minutes.
He will check me and see about progress, which I'm praying is significant. I cannot have done more to help the process along. This darn hearty body and stubborn little boy are frustrating.
As I've mentioned (or noted meticulously, but lets not split hairs) I am 41w3d today.
My friend that's a midwife says statistically speaking, this is the day most 1st time moms deliver.
My official due date puts me at 40w6d.
I fully expect that I will be induced today, it's the when that I'm not sure of.
In some ways it is hard for me to accept, because I really wanted to do this naturally. But the control freak in me is over the moon. I guess I shouldn't get to worked up either way until I've actually talked with my doc, but as you can see, my mile-a-minute mind has a contingency plan in place for EVERYTHING! It's sometimes exhausting, which is part of the reason that I am physically active. It distracts the mind (which is not such a feat at this point.)
Let me just say, my hormones and emotions are ALL over the place.
I wanna cry cause I'm excited and happy and scared and self-assured and ready and compeletely unprepared. I'm like a freaking episode of United States of Tara (which I find to be a terrible show, which makes this even more obnoxious to me).
So, in closing, say prayers my friends.
Prayers that Cliff is as ready as I think he is. (And maybe some that he is not huge..or that he is at the very least, quite squishable.)
Prayers for my nurses and doctors, that they make the best decisions for a safe delivery.
Prayers for Zac that I don't want to slap him to the ground at any point.
Prayers for Mom (and the others that set up a waiting room vigil) as she makes the hospital her temporary home.
And of course, prayers for me as I have to deliver "Little Big Head" as Mom likes to call him.
We will keep you posted.