Today is my due date. Well kind of. I guess technically, it was the 13th, but whatever. We all know a due date is really just a date given to pregnant women to tease them. It's so strange because "September 16" is this familiar date that I've known for 36ish weeks or so as the goal. The end. Much like "May 26" was with Jack. People have asked when I'm due for 6 or 7 months and I've said, "September 16th" hundreds of times.
But the day has come and almost gone and I've had no signs of any sort of progress at all. All of my feelings a few weeks ago that the baby would come early have proven to be inaccurate. In about two hours, this baby will officially be late.
I told Kyle that it's like counting down the days to your birthday, and then everyone sort of forgetting that it was your birthday. Total letdown. The day that you've held in such high regard for so long has come and gone with nothing to show for it.
I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow in which we'll discuss what to do if he's not here in another week. Part of me wants to give it two weeks past my due date just to do what I can to avoid the dreaded pitocin. But given Jack's size and how much bigger this baby seems, I also don't want to end up in a c-section because he's too big for me to push out. I had really hoped to not have to make this decision.
Oh well. No one stays pregnant forever. I just want him to arrive and for him to be healthy . . . whenever that may be.