You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance.
[Franklin P. Jones]
I've decided that, next time, I'm lying about our due date. I'm giving out a late one. Just in case.
When people ask how I'm feeling lately (which I truly do appreciate), I say "good" or "fine" or, occasionally, "getting a little uncomfortable." And that's all true -- things are good/fine/a bit uncomfy. But that's where my sharing ends. I'm not talking further specifics. Signs of labor? The first sign of labor I'll share with anyone other than Kyle and my doctor is "We're heading to the hospital! We'll let you know when the baby is born!"
I'm really getting quite secretive in my advancing years. And patient.
My due date isn't even here yet. I have a hunch that it will come and go, and Baby will still be happy to hang out where he or she is, thanks very much. And that's actually okay right now. There is no rush, little one. You take after me, I understand. It's hard to be punctual. You're getting ready to make your big debut. Take your time.
I'm actually sort of enjoying the end of this pregnancy. I like the anticipation. I like not knowing exactly what the day will bring. I like reorganizing the hospital bag every few days, talking with Kyle about our first quiet hours as a family of three, watching videos on newborn care, and washing more swaddling blankets with sweet-smelling Dreft. This is a quiet, happy, nest-y sort of time.
So... yes. I'm good, Baby's good, things are great. My back hurts at the end of the day, but I'm not waddling. And that right there is the extent of my physical updates.
Let's pretend my new due date is March 26. If Baby arrives before that, won't it be a nice surprise?