We're getting at least three calls a day now from people who want to know if we've had the baby yet.
"Not yet...we'll let you know."
She's only three days late - not a big deal, I keep trying to tell myself. Babies are born later than that all the time. Ken was three weeks late. I don't know how his mom managed it. I'm usually pretty good at being patient and philosophical about the whole thing; I've been pregnant for nine months - another day (or two, or three...) won't kill me. But even though today, or any day, could be "the day", there's still no indication that it will be. I'm tired, and it's getting hard to keep being patient.
As the days go by, I'm more and more exhausted - I don't know if it's just from the anxiety and frustration, or what. This is the first Sunday for three weeks that we're not snowed in, and I was really eager to get out and finally go to church again...until I woke up all stiff & sore in a dozen different places, and realized that I don't even have anything to wear to church - none of my "fat clothes" even fit me now. I've been living for the last three days in my ugly grey sweatpants. I was thinking last night of doing fried chicken and biscuits and gravy for dinner - good ol' Southern fare - but there's a sink full of dishes that need to be washed - they were there yesterday, and didn't get washed then either - and I just don't think I can deal with spending a whole afternoon in the kitchen, again.
(Believe it or not, Mom, I've actually been pretty good about keeping up with the dishes, and keeping the house reasonably clean. The clutter is still there, but I'm trying hard to control it, even fight it back. But not today...)
I read, in one of my books or magazines, that the ninth month of pregnancy is the hardest - until you get into the tenth. I can't even think about a "tenth month" - it's just a series of day-after-days, and each one is dominated by a gigantic Question Mark.
Those who know me know how little I'm about planning my life, or my days...still, it's hard to be constantly up in the air like this. I don't know if I'll go to bed tonight in my own bed or not, or if I'll get to sleep through the night. I'm hesitant to put the chicken for dinner out to thaw, because if we have to go to the hospital, it'll be ruined.
This must be how my sister felt while she was waiting for Jackson to arrive - he was also a couple weeks late.
I need a nap. I haven't even been up for two hours, and I'm already ready to go lie down again!
