39 weeks today. 39 weeks.
Anyone that has been pregnant knows the end is rather miserable. With Sabrina, I delivered at about 38 weeks and I wasn't that uncomfortable or miserable. I was mentally ready - more than ready - but physically I was hanging in there. This time? I'm physically a mess and mentally unprepared. But it is time to get this little guy out. I hurt.
I've decided tomorrow is D-Day. And this is how I'm going to make it happen.
I'm going to post about how he's never, ever coming out and there are no signs of anything happening soon. This is true. I also posted the same thing on my old blog the night my water broke with Sabrina. That's step one.
Step two? I have a doctor's appointment on Wednesday and for some reason, these things happen the day before an appointment for me. Did with Sabrina, did with my miscarriage...this is apparently how I roll.
Step three: full moon tomorrow night. While some consider it a myth, most L&D nurses will tell you there is an increase in traffic when there is a full moon. I can tell you with Sabrina, my pre-term labor was always at its worst when there was a full moon. Curiously I didn't deliver Sabrina under a full moon (it was a couple days later), but whatever. The thing about the full moon is the hospital will be busier than normal, and since the hospital I'm delivering at hasn't gotten off their ass to open their new birthing wing which would guarantee me a private room, I figure I'll deliver tomorrow and have to share a room which is one of my worst nightmares. I don't care for strangers in general, and I especially don't want to share a room and worse - bathroom - with one that is bleeding and having all sorts of issues down there. Or have to deal with listening to their baby, because my baby will be perfect and not cry. Of course.
Step four: Chris has a funeral to attend tomorrow and his children like to appear on days where he has important plans. Okay, so last time it was a root canal appointment but still, his tooth was hurting.
Step five: Probably the most important step. Sabrina has been quite the crazed terror today, running around like the Tasmanian devil. At one point she started jumping, I bent down to stop her and she ended up splitting my lip. Like in two. While I understand it was an accident, and she is too young to understand the searing pain she caused, she isn't too young to understand I was spitting blood and the fact that she laughed at that is concerning. So now I have a fat lip and look like I got punched in the face. What makes it funny and more likely I'll deliver is that our hospital always asks at least 3 times if I feel safe in my relationship. They say it's state law and all that, I get it. I get asking once. Not 3 times so there are many different witnesses. And each time I'm asked Chris has to be gone. So sometimes it takes an extraordinary amount of time to get that all cleared up. And considering I'll be answering with a fat lip, I'm sure I'll get asked more than 3 times. Maybe even whisked away to a social worker. Last time it interfered with my getting an epidural, and that is NOT funny. In any way, shape or form.
Regardless of all of that though, I'm pretty sure he's not going anywhere. Ever. I'm going to be pregnant forever. God help Chris, because this time I'm one hell of a bitch. I think he's more ready than I am, and that's saying a lot.