Official Due Date.

Today I turn forty.

Forty weeks of being pregnant!

Forty weeks of carrying a little human around.

I never thought time would pass by with such a quickness. I still remember as if it were yesterday waking up and taking the pregnancy test—the blurry joy Sam and I felt as we stared at that silly little pee stick.

I remember those first few nights of morning sickness and how I felt so defeated. I remember how happy I was when I could actually function without worrying about the location of the nearest trashcan or toilet to throw up in.

I remember first feeling little one move and having to lay on my stomach to get her to move enough to have Sam feel her too.

I look back on who I was pre-pregnancy and realize that this little one has already drastically changed my life. Not only mine, but Sam’s life as well.

As my little one got bigger and my stomach started growing, my confidence in myself grew. I noticed myself being more outgoing and more open to people. I think I was more focused on making good impressions and making friends rather than what they thought of me physically–which is a good thing.

At the squadron picnic yesterday, I received many odd and surprised looks from people when I responded that I was due in one day. It’s not as if I expected her to magically appear on the due date, as only a handful of babies actually come when they are “supposed” to. One mom offered these loving words of advice: “You could still go another 2 weeks!” Gee! THANKS! Indeed I could! I don’t mind though— I am feeling good and can move around with ease. I just have a little trouble getting out of bed in the morning (picture a roly poly trying to turn over, or that kid from A Christmas Story).

Skip to 1:40 for a comparison.

But…I digress.

We have our 40 week appointment in half an hour. I hope to hear good news in regards to progress. I think my biggest fear is that nothing will change in the next few weeks and surgery will be the next step. I really fear that. Yes I do want my healthy baby out. But no, I don’t do well in surgery settings. I freak out. EEEEk. That’ll be the first question we ask our midwife today: How long will you let me go and what are our options.

Update to come!

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