41 weeks, 2 days.

This waiting game is excruciating!

I've been lucky through this entire pregnancy to have things move smoothly.  I've felt fabulous for the most part and enjoyed the experience of having a little being growing inside of me.  But now, as I'm down to the final days of pregnancy, it all comes to a halting screech of discomfort.

It starts at about 38 weeks... and you start thinking, "Any day now..." At that point, it's exciting. The buildup of anticipation, thinking that at any moment you could be bringing a new life into the world.  But then, 39 weeks shows up and you start praying for "any day now."  Sleeping becomes difficult-- like sleeping with a giant egg strapped to your chest that you have to delicately protect.

Then, 40 weeks.  The anticipation build up starts brewing into frustration.  The phone calls start to come in from various sources, each asking the same thing, "Baby?" Then, with each day after 40 weeks, they start almost joking about it, "When you going to have that baby?" or "She's stubborn, just like her parents." And I smile about it and halfway laugh with them.  But inside, you just want to scream!  The discomfort gets to be more and more unbearable... and each time you are asked when you're going to have "that baby" you feel a pressure weighing down on your shoulders even more.  Like somehow I'm letting everyone down by not having the baby yet.  I know, it's ridiculous.  And I know it's not the truth or even based in reality, but... maybe that's just one of the thoughts the frustration brews.

Today, I am 40 weeks, 2 days. Only 2 days late. Only.  The part that is the most discouraging, however, is that I went back to the doctor today for my weekly appointment.  Last week, the doctor was all sorts of encouraging about having the baby.  This week was a different sort of feeling I got off of him.  Just like the past 2 weeks, I was only a little over 1 cm dilated and 70% effaced.  He seemed a little discouraged that I hadn't made any significant progress over the past 2 weeks.  (I can relate.) 

So the new game plan is that I am going back to the doctor on Friday to check things out AGAIN.  He said that come Sunday or Monday, I'm done carrying this baby-- that makes 41 weeks.  He said that the problem with going longer than that is that the baby starts getting really big and the water around the baby is compromised.  So on Friday he's going to check my water levels and make sure that I'm healthy enough and the baby is healthy enough to carry the baby longer without getting induced.  (I'm really hoping to let her come on her own, even though I'm getting anxious as all hell!)

Basically the doctor sounded like he was very wary of whether this baby was going to come on her own.

I cried on my way home from the doctor.

(I won't miss these hormones.)