Really, I have nothing to say. Or rather, I have nothing NEW to say.
I am still pregnant. It is either 3 or 4 days past my due date, depending on which indicator you want to use, date of last menstruation or ultrasound. It doesn't really matter. Either way, I'm still pregnant. I have been pregnant for over 270 days. And really, I've had enough.
Unfortunately, that does not make me any less pregnant. Neither does walking, nipple stimulation, red raspberry leaf tea, pressing of pressure points, more walking, sex, bouncing on my exercise ball, jiggling my belly, or having every person I know annoy the hell out of me because "weren't you due last weekend?"
I have gone on an almost complete communication blackout. No Facebook. No phone. For my own sanity I should also not listen to my voice mails or read my text messages because they all boil down to the same BS, that I might have had the baby and not told anyone. Or some suggestions on ways to induce labor. Or just to remind me that I haven't had the baby yet, WTF? Why am I doing this to everyone?
In the meantime, I continually lose feeling in my right hand, my ankles - especially the one I broke in high school - look frighteningly similar to overtaxed water balloons, I keep having contractions (but not enough to go to the hospital), and the baby has taken to performing extensive cardio routines which involve thumping me in the cervix while kicking and kicking. I have tried to convince the baby to use this energy to get the hell out of my uterus, but apparently he isn't getting it. Also, the in utero movements have lost their cuteness entirely. No more, awww, look it the wee little foot. Now it's just GET OUT! WHY ARE YOU NOT GETTING OUT?!
In all honesty, the primary source of my frustration is that my father, due completely to R and I's smug certainty that I would have had the baby by now, is going to be here in 9 days. That seems like a long way away, except that we have stipulated a no visitors for 1 week rule. My dad is not in a position to easily change his schedule (thus the reason for scheduling his visit in the first place), and if he comes before the 1 week is over all hell is going to break out among the other relatives. Not to mention that we really want that week for me to recover, to establish breastfeeding, and to just be by ourselves before the tidal wave of visitors hits. I love my dad, but I don't want him here while I deal with the worst of the postpartum hormones and grossness.
That keeps hovering over our heads as we approach tomorrow's OB visit, where we will do a full biophysical profile (yay for coming with a full bladder so I can properly test my kegal strength throughout the testing!) and have the induce/not induce discussion.
Long, complainy-pants story summary: baby, PLEASE just come today or tonight!