Rob and I are off to Europe for six weeks…
Due date has come and gone. No baby yet. Even though I have been prepared for her to be late and I feel remarkably good physically, it’s still harder than I expected to stay relaxed at this stage.
I had my first real foray into mom-guilt when we were asked by the unhelpful nurse at our non-stress test to pick an induction date. Do I go with a date as late as possible like the warrior natural labor moms in my yoga class? Does that put the baby at risk? Is earlier better or safer? Should I go online to try to research for hours the absolute best, smartest date I can possibly choose? Just like Braxton Hicks contractions are good practice for labor, this felt like good practice for a lifetime ahead of tough and fairly arbitrary decisions. Rob and I picked the first day of week 42, got reassurance from a doctor and tried our best to put it out of mind. She’ll come when she’s ready…hopefully in the next 8 days.
I’ve completely run out of things (and motivation to think of new things) to do and mostly spend my days wandering the house like a ghost while Rob stares at me. He’s convinced I’m going to go for a glass of water in the kitchen and have the baby without telling him – we should be so lucky! The baby seems very comfortable and keeps stretching her legs out to make more room. 70% of my energy is focused on what to cook for lunch and where in the house I left my last glass of water. The rest is luxurious 90 minute naps in the middle of the day, 5 mile walks and nightly yoga practice.
This seems to be the bargaining phase of pregnancy. I have conversations every hour with the baby promising her that there are so many good things to be had here on the outside. Banana splits! Foggy mornings at the beach! Bike rides with dad! Tuna melts! Walks to farmer’s market in your fancy pram! Look at all your cute clothes! I’m basically a full-time marketer for human existence outside the womb. (These red pants are not part of the pitch. I’m severely out of clothing options)
I’ve bumped up (ha!) to two pre-natal yoga classes a week. The morning class on Tuesday is mostly women in the final stretch like me. It’s followed by a really adorable post-natal yoga class where babies get to come too. Another selling point I’m trying to use to convince the baby to come out.
The belly has formed into a perfectly round watermelon. It feels like it might just pop off and crack open like an egg…which seems like a better way of doing things in general.
It’s kind of fun to terrify people who ask about your due date by saying it was last weekend.
Thanks to everyone for sending well-wishes! The support of this great tribe of friends and family is so helpful every day as we wait for the babe to arrive.
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