The waiting game

Here we are. Two days past my due date. Baby's still sitting snugly inside my belly.

This is completely expected. Many first babies are late. In general, it's rare that a baby comes on his due date.

And yet. It's hard not to get more curious and anxious about when he'll actually make his appearance. Every time  I stand up and my lower abdomen feels uncomfortable, I wonder if something might be starting. When I lay down for bed in the evening, I ponder whether this will be the night when I awake with contractions. Last night Stuart and I doused our dinner with chipotles and went on a walk in our local park. Still nothing.

I'm so used to being a scheduler and clock-watcher that it's difficult to give myself over to baby's time. I keep thinking that my stomach is so tight, he doesn't have any room left to grow, so doesn't he want to come out and play? Hitting the due date made the baby feel so close, made it harder to believe it could be almost two more weeks before anything happens.

Friday was my last day at work. It's been strange this week to get up, dress, and sit at home alone. Watching movies, taking naps, writing, catching up on those baby books I'd been putting off reading -- these are fine activities. It's nice to have this time to relax and think before my whole life turns upside down. At the same time, it's odd to not be as busy as usual. To be so much more aware of baby when he moves and wonder each time whether he's considering a new way of life.

Last night we went to a neighborhood block party, and everyone kept asking, "When's the baby due?" I have to admit it was kind of fun to say, "Yesterday." A much different feeling than when I was counting down toward the due date. Now I'm counting past it.

Well, baby, I know you'll come when you're ready. Just know that I can't wait for that time to arrive.