November 15. For nine months I expected that I would have my little guy by that date. That was one week and one day ago. Still no baby. It's funny, and a little ridiculous, how hard it has been for me. I have cried, gotten angry, frustrated, gone to bed feeling positive I would wake up in labor. And still... nothing. I feel the same every morning when I wake up.
It's such a silly and little thing to be upset over though. I mean, as far as we can tell we have a healthy, happy little guy. That's all that really matters. And I know that. Inside me, I do know that is what really matters. The only thing that really matters.
Tomorrow I am going to be induced. I didn't want to be induced. I still don't want to be induced. I wanted to feel labor start. I was excited to have it happen on its own. I always imagined where I would be when it happened. I imagined sending a text to all my family and friends, who have anxiously awaited the arrival of this little guy, telling them this was it. It was finally happening.
But now I know exactly when it will happen. I know exactly where I will be. All of my friends and family won't need a text or a call because they already know at 7:30 am tomorrow, Matt and I will be in the hospital getting things going.
Oh well. Life never really turns out how you expect, does it?
I have a healthy, happy, safe, overdue baby. And I'm ok with that. More than ok with that. I am thrilled with that.
