The Waiting Game



39 weeks…5 days…

Monday is THE DAY.

However, if Baby Audra wants to show up early so I can skip the hot weather that is coming in over the weekend that would be most excellent.

We’ve been measuring “4 weeks ahead of schedule” with the fundal height (that tape measurey thing), but our last ultrasound at 37 weeks showed we just have a  very long and only slightly above average little girl. So while we were prepared by the OBGYNs we’ve been seeing that she may very likely come early…she has not. She’s a chunky mama’s girl. I’d love to hang with me too for as long as possible.

Braxton Hicks has been my worst nightmare for about a month now. We’ve raced to the hospital several times with contractions that could be timed only for them to stop as we’re pulling in or for us to find out I’ve only dilated a centimeter. Dehydrated? No way. I chug water like I’m a toddler not wanting to share with their sibling. I try to take it easy, but we just recently moved into our new home and I think my body has never recovered from all that crazy moving around.

What makes things better is that I chose to work my full-time job to the best of my ability right up to delivery. My mornings consist of the “walk of shame” for not having squeezed out my kid like a tube of toothpaste. My favorite part of the walk of shame are the questions and comments about my chubby belly’s position.

“Wow, you haven’t dropped at all.”

Hello, I guess you’re my new OBGYN! I don’t think we’ve met before, but I greatly value the encouragement that my kid is definitely fighting gravity and my uterus to the best of her ability. However, little lady is in position and I have dropped, but thanks for the little dose of anxiety that I will FOREVER BE PREGNANT.

“How are you still pregnant?”

This is what they call a rhetorical question, but they still wait for you to respond. Responses from me usually include grunts, shrugs, belly shakes or if you’re lucky…”OH MY GODDDDD I KNOWWW RIGHT?!!!” Guys, yes, it sucks. I can’t anatomically explain to you HOW am I still pregnant. I just know that my button nosed daughter loves me too much to make her grand entrance it seems.

“Are you sure there aren’t twins?”

You just politely called me a chunker, you realize that, right? Hey. I ain’t even mad. I’ve gained WAY too much weight with the pregnancy and while I’m carrying it all “well” my belly is going to sag over like a messenger bag flap once this is all through. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care how you think I look or if you think I’m carrying twins. I get it, we’re all still praying that my miserable waddling days will soon be over. However, please remember that not all women handle that comment quite as well as I do. Hormones have made me find everyone and everything far funnier than usual and I normally enjoy a lot of laughing despite being uncomfortable right now. However, the next person who says I look “JOLLY” despite being pregnant is going to get a sharp head butt. Jolly= Santa. We’re pushin’ it.

However miserable I’ve been feeling there’s this small (and grows smaller every hour) part of me that knows I’ll miss feeling her wiggles. These are the final moments that I get to be totally selfish and keep her just to myself. Right now I can enjoy her without splitting time with anyone else.

I hope you all had a great Friday. We’re praying for our little girl to arrive safely over the weekend.

Love and warm regards,


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