I'm still pregnant. REAL, real pregnant.
I didn't make it to 39 weeks with Snooze. He arrived 10 days before his due date, so naturally I believed Baby #2 would be early; perhaps even earlier than my beloved first born.
And then? Nothing.
There is pretty much zero happening in the old cervix. At week 36, Newbie was nearly transverse breech, and I wonder if that has something to do with his/her reticence to come out. We ended up with an ultrasound the following week, and thankfully baby had turned head down. At week 38, the head that is growing to NOW EPIC PROPORTIONS was still high. I have another appointment tomorrow. Fingers crossed for some dilation, y'all!
People keep asking me how I am doing, and in truth, I feel better than I have in a long time. To be sure: it's still difficult to maneuver myself out of bed for 87 pee breaks per night, and I'm much puffier than I was with my spring pregnancy. My wedding rings haven't fit since late May; but last go-round, I had a few rings I could wear. This time? Not so much. It is Texas in August, and because our energy bill is roughly the size of the national deficit, I'm not as uncomfortable as you might think.
I'm happy to have made it through my summer semester without my water breaking during the final, and I am indulging in lots of sweets. I registered for the Dallas Half-Marathon (December 9th), so as soon as have this baby I'll have to nearly immediately get back on the fitness band wagon. THE WEIGHT, you guys. SHE IS VERY, VERY HIGH. To which I say: meh. Pass me the Milano cookies.