We're playing the waiting game.
This little boy inside of me has seemed so anxious to get out. We spent pretty much the whole of last weekend timing contractions that were 3-5 minutes apart. And then they stopped. This is a good thing, because he was barely 36 weeks along, and although technically he's ok coming at that point, it still lends itself to unnecessary complications. So I was put on "partial bed rest" for this week. As my midwife said, every 12 hours he's still in the womb is that much closer to being completely full term.
And so we've waited.
And had SO much awesome help. I almost feel bad whenever someone asks about contractions or if I think the baby is coming soon. No, pretty normal...I feel cumbersome, unwieldy, heavy, lots of pressure...sometimes the contractions are consistent (like yesterday afternoon/evening: every 7-8 minutes), and sometimes not. It's like, all the help is in vain. (And I know it's not, I just feel bad sometimes.) I'm fine, really. Nope. No baby yet.
And that's a good thing.
It's just hard to wait sometimes.
But we've made it this far. He's 37 weeks tomorrow; a much safer point for his entry into the world. Which also means I can be off the partial bed rest. No more waiting. I'm cleaning this house tomorrow!
And if the baby comes, he comes, and that's ok now. And if not, that's ok too. (Just don't wait too long son...please...) :)
In the meantime, I've got the pregnant waddle DOWN. :)
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