I didn’t have time to become impatient over Nathan’s birth, since he proved himself a well-ordered baby and I went into labor right on his due date. With Ryan, despite being two weeks late, it didn’t bother me; I had faith that he would come, I had nothing else scheduled anyway, and sure enough he came when he was ready.
With this one I’m having trouble being quite so accepting.
I’m not sure why, since I’m not all that uncomfortable — even that ravenous appetite that got me up in the middle of the night has tapered off. And everything that was true with Ryan is still true: it really is easier to take care of a baby when it’s on the inside, and this delay is, perforce, of limited duration anyway, so why stress over it?
I’m not stressing, exactly. I just keep envisioning the next day being The Day, and it keeps not being true. Dave is wise enough not to ask me too many times a day how I’m feeling, which is good because I feel exactly the same as I did a week ago. Mostly this post is to show off the enormous bulging belly and confirm that yep, we’re still waiting…