No, I am not in labour

Sigh. I give up. This baby will come when it damn well wants to, no matter what. I shall give up all hope and predictions. take it away, mother nature!! This is clearly not my show.

Is it now? No? Maybe? Yes? God, who can tell??!

We are currently at a state of uncertainty with this kid, unfortunately. While there have been a few signs that seem to indicate possible progression of labour (like general discomfort and some ... well, let's not go into details so as to avoid grossing anyone out, shall we? If you've had a baby, you know what I mean. And if you haven't, and are REALLY curious, you can email me), there aren't any definitive ones (you know, like contractions. at least not any contractions that aren't easily dismissable). The baby sits low, and if last time was anything to go by (which it isn't) this baby will arrive within a day or two.

But it's clear this kid has a mind of his / her own, so hell, it could still be weeks.

In the meantime, I'm going to lie back, watch a movie, and try not to think about it much.

Ha ha ha ha ha. Like THAT'S possible.

Operation Sweep: FAIL

I was really rather hopeful around noon this morning when I felt actual, if irregular, contractions. There were even enough of them to time them. And then even when they stopped a couple hours later and I was just sitting here feeling uncomfortable for two hours, I was hopeful that things were just ... well, moving along without contractions.

But two hours ago when I lay down to rest and both the contractions AND the uncomfortableness diminished completely, I figured things had come to an end.

And ... yeah. Nothing. We got nothing here people.

Oh, sure, sure, midwife says it could be anytime in 24 hours, and things do often happen at night and all, but ...

I think I may have to resign myself to another week -- or more -- of pregnancy.

And let's not forget that one of the things the midwife said this morning was "Hey, how big was The Boy at birth again? Almost eight pounds? At three weeks early? Yeah, let's get this one out so it doesn't get any bigger!"

Eleven pound baby, here we come.

:: sigh ::

Swept

This morning I sat and looked the midwife in the eye and simply said "Please get this baby out of me. I don't care how."

So she (TMI Alert!) swept the membranes in the hopes of getting something going. I'm just so done of the waiting. I'm large and uncomfortable and it's just damn well time.

She said this sometimes doesn't work, but I'm 2cm already and this should, all being well, start things off in the next 24 hours.

If not we'll repeat next week and hope for the best.

Guess we'll just wait and see ...

The Energizer Boy

Yesterday I don't think that my kid stopped talking from the moment he woke up at 6:30 or so until he conked out almost mid-sentence at 8:30 at night. He certainly didn't stop moving from the moment he got out of bed until the same time. The Man and I are astounded that he has that much energy. How is any adult supposed to keep up with that? We did the best we could, but both of us collapsed onto the couch once he finally fell asleep, and the remnant dishes from last night's excellent dinner are still cluttering the kitchen.

Since I have a data point of one, I don't know if this is normal or not; it is what it is. He's not hyperactive per se, he concentrates well on each activity, and can spend great amounts of time with me playing a game or making structures, it's just that his mind never stops moving from one thing to another. Being bored is, already, a horrifying thing to him. He can't lie in bed until a decent hour because it's boring; he doesn't want to lie still to go to sleep because it's boring.

Unfortunately for him, I think learning how to be bored is going to be a vital life skill.

Right now, after breakfast, he is sitting in his chair playing with my iPhone. He chats as he does it, tells me what he's doing and discovering, and his little legs are moving moving moving under the table. For me, first thing in the morning, it's too much stimulus to cope with, and I have to tune much of it out so that I can retain my sanity.

And now he's off, for more adventures. Thank heavens it's Monday, and he can run about the daycare all day, finding toy after toy and never once being bored.

And now ...

I've packed away all the maternity clothes that no longer fit -- leaving the one pair of pants that does and a few for those after weeks when I know I'll need something stretchy.

This is all the more remarkable given that I was lying in bed yesterday morning barely able to lift my head with a sinus cold.

And now that I know the dishwasher is done, I'm having trouble sitting here not emptying it.

Pregnancy, if I may say it again, is CRAZY.

I might be nesting

A sudden burst of energy has had me clean out the toys in my son's room, re-organize boxes of baby things, find a basket for baby toys, and FINALLY clean out the basket o'crap that we have in the living room (parenting tip: it's helpful to have a basket of some kind in the living room designated the basket of crap, into which you throw all kinds of small cars, lego pieces, puzzle pieces, and random small toys that belong somewhere else. It makes a quick clean nice and quick, and you can go back and sort later. Also when your son asks where X is, tell him to search the basket, as it's often there. It saves my sanity.)

I've also done all the laundry in the house, sheets and towels included, and cleaned the kitchen.

If I start scrubbing the walls, we'll know the baby is imminent.