My due date has officially arrived. I am still pregnant. Still big as a house. Still waddling. Still having fairly regular painless-yet-annoying contractions. Still getting bigger. Still can't really shave my legs. Still can't see my toes.
I have done many things in a seemingly fruitless attempt to smoke this kid out, including but not limited to: getting several acupuncture treatments, taking Evening Primrose Oil and drinking Red Raspberry Leaf tea daily, successfully begging my doctor to sweep the membranes, losing my plug, forcing Andrew to rub the appropriate acupressure points every night, and getting a pedicure with extra massage (good idea, Jul!). I am still pregnant.
This kid is way too happy in my belly and all that I can think about is: what does this mean for his future? what does this mean for the future of my belly's elasticity?
As Lilah says every night, "Come on out and play toys with me, Baby Boy!" We're waiting for you. We're ready for you. You can come out now, please.....
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I think it's time to stop being so nice. This "Come out now, please" stuff needs to stop. I think instead you need to yell to your belly, "HEY! Cut the crap, kid! Hurry up already!" or something like that. No more "please" and/or "thank you." You're from Strong Island for Pete's sake!
XO, Michelle
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