So. I will be 41 weeks tomorrow. Yes, I know it’s really not a big deal, yes, I know “full term pregnancy” is anywhere between 38 and 42 weeks, okay, okay, I know!! But I’m tired and hot and sore and ready to be done, and so ready to meet our little bundle of joy!

I saw my midwife on Tuesday for our normal check-up. She is one of the sweetest women ever, and I’m really happy to be working with her… but why does it always seem to be that when you’re cranky, a person feels the need to ask you 8 times how you’re feeling? I finally told her that I had come to a conclusion. “I’m not actually pregnant,” I said. “No baby is going to come out of me, I’m just fat, and I’m going to be stuck this way forever.”

She and her colleague thought that this was quite amusing.

I’ve heard that during labor there comes a point where the rational part of the woman’s mind just shuts down and she is driven by the more primitive part, just doing what it takes to get the baby out. I’m not in labor yet, but I’m pretty sure I’ve checked out of the rational department, as you may or may not be able to tell by this post.

I am a space cadet.

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