This post was meant to be written yesterday, but there was a problem with yesterday. Er, rather, there was a problem with me yesterday.
After a few days of testing out a handful of labor inducing tactics and failing to see any promptly work, I was in full-blown "if I have to be pregnant for five more seconds, I'm going to start stabbing innocent people" mode. It wasn't just a case of being upset. I was downright angry. The thought of chucking something heavy and explosively breakable at our TV crossed my mind several times during the day.
Her face = how I feel.
Very little can cure these moods. I spent the majority of yesterday in silence at home, stewing in my frustrations and leaving the house only to pick up a few groceries and select yet another new novel (Water for Elephants, my third since going on leave last week; I keep thinking that I'll just "get started" with one and baby will come, but no dice there).
At some point, I turned to the always trusty Dr. Google for some answers.
"There must be some benefits to being huge and still pregnant. Maybe this means I'll be winning the lottery soon, or maybe it means the kid will become a doctor who cures cancer, or maybe it means I'm going to birth the second coming of Jesus because all great messiahs take extra time to bake, right?"
For once in my life, though, my Google searches weren't yielding much. Though I found tons of stories of women who were overdue by days, some even by double-digits, no one seemed to be pooping out glitter or exalting to the high heavens as they heaved around 30+ pounds and waited patiently/impatiently for the first signs of labor.
So I thought long and hard quickly, mostly because it was time to go to the bathroom yet again, and tried to come up with my own list of reasons why going past your due date can be a good thing.
1) You can find excitement in just about anything right now. A teeny cramp, an odd kick, the mailman coming, your cell phone ringing. Each day's oddities bring hope that maybe, just maybe, this will be the day. And if my mailman does indeed deliver my baby one day, you can catch us on the 6 o'clock news. Book deal, subsequent appearance on Oprah The View, and 15-minutes of fame to follow.
2) Supposedly, babies who are late can be less temperamental. Michelle says that her little girl is very easy-going, and I have found some of the same tales other places on the Interwebz. I'll take a shiny, happy baby in the long run if it means being horrifically uncomfortable in the short term.
I hate R.E.M., but this video seemed appropriate here.
3) Strangers eye you with admiration when you tell them your due date was "three days ago." My cashier at Kroger yesterday just about dropped my Better Made chips (which could've been catastrophic as I despise potato chip shards) when I mentioned this to her. Her eyes grew big, and she literally stopped the register's belt as if I'd just told her that I was stocking up on groceries after returning home from a trip to the moon.
4) Three words/new job title: House Hunters Expert. You can judge the homeowners from your couch, always correctly forecasting exactly what house they'll pick and finding yourself saying along with the wife/girlfriend as she and her husband tour the master bedroom closet, "But, honey, where's your stuff going to go?"
5) Folding laundry, tidying the kitchen, and changing the sheets suddenly become mini-adventures in the day. Each time I think of a new chore to attack, my heart flutters happily, and I Hunchback of Notre Dame myself around our abode, ensuring every surface is clean and sparkling.
This is mostly what I look like when I walk now, sans the crown and scepter.
(source)
6) Standards of beauty are at an all-time low. My poor husband has come home to Resort-Wear Megan, showered but sans makeup and any attempt to do my hair, every night for a week now. He's a lucky guy, what can I say?
At least he's pretty handsome, eh?
7) No one effs with you. In fact, they do everything in their power to make you happy. Want to coerce your hubs into watching five hours of Golden Globes coverage with you? Needing a comfy seat at a family function? Make it past the 40-week mark, and you'll get it all.
So there's my off-hand attempt at being happy about still being pregnant. It's not much, but as is the case with my maternity jeans, there's not much room to give here, people.
Thanks for your sweet comments on Friday's post, too. I hope that the next post I have for you contains pictures of a real, live baby and less thinly veiled angry discourse.