I have officially entered the stage of pregnancy where I just want the kid to vacate.
I'm up all night running to the bathroom. I'm uncomfortable and unwieldy. I'm too tired to do much of anything, and I'm getting super cranky. Luckily, my girls are old enough to make themselves a sandwich, and Husband is being very understanding.
There have been many predictions about when this baby would decide to come out, and we've already passed all of them. Except mine. I figure Valentine's day, because that's 10 days after my due date, as well as our anniversary. Both my girls kept me waiting to meet them for two weeks past their due dates, so if past experience holds up, I'll win the pool.
Still, I was holding out hope because a couple of the predictions were made by my midwife team. You can imagine my disappointment when they found absolutely no signs of impending labour at my last visit. This baby has no intention of being born this week.
So now all I can do is sit around waiting. Clean things. Wait. Knit. Wait. Clean again. Wait. Fold and re-fold the tiny clothes. Wait.
I've realised something about this whole "nesting" phenomenon. It's not so much about making sure you're ready for the baby as it is making sure that you don't go completely insane before you get to meet the baby.
I'll be vacuuming the ceiling and dusting the insides of all the light fixtures if anyone needs me.