Well, George has actually had four due dates. First was May 24, then May 25, then May 18, and the final decision was apparently made to be May 22. Really, it was all over the place, so I haven't put much merit to his due date. His Aunt Alix was two weeks late, and I actually envisioned my first child being a lot like her (because I think it would be hilarious), so I just sort of expected George to be past his due date when he finally popped out.
But yes, as of yesterday, he was due to be here. According to whatever math equation doctor's use (it still semi-confuses me). However, as you can see he's still not here (and as such already following in his aunt's footsteps, CUTE)! Which, really, does not bother me. I just told George, "Look, either you pick out your birthday or I will." So, unless he decides otherwise in the coming week, he is allowing his mother to pick out his birthday!
WHICH I TOTALLY DID. Yes, I did. At my final doctor's check-up yesterday.
(Okay, technically I just said, "Induce me ASAP," which cannot be done until 41-weeks, so... that would be his birthday. So I really didn't make any sort of decisions there. Yep, just threw out the "ASAP" card, that was my big decision-making.)
But without further ado... George is due to report to this planet on May 29th sometime between 12:00 PM and 3:00 PM!
Tuesday morning I'll get a phone call of when I'll be coming in that night to begin softening me up to poop a baby out. (I'm sure there was a more elegant way of saying that, but all I'm saying is that's basically what I'm doing anyway, right?) Dr. Later said that'd be somewhere around 9:00 PM that night. Around 6:00 AM the next morning, I'll be put on pitocin. Then, George should be born somewhere between that noon to three time frame. AND WHA-BAM. Heather and Bradley officially become Heather, Bradley, and George. Big landmark, there!
So, in the official no-qualms-about-it, last week of my pregnancy, let us reflect on what I am perhaps going to miss and what I am not going to miss about being pregnant...
Going to Miss
Feeling like I ate a human being.
Basically, feeling George's kicks. So funny.
The late-pregnancy look of having an excuse to
be excessively wide in the stomach area.
It's nice to never have to suck it in!
Having an excuse to always take the elevator.
Whenever I choose to take an elevator at work,
I felt like a fat kid. But because I technically am
a literal fat kid, I feel legitimatized in my decision to
elevator it up!
Stairs are evil, people.
Talking to my belly. It's fun, seriously.
Not Going to Miss
Is this what it's going to be like to be old?!
I'm very grateful to have only had it in the
last few weeks of my pregnancy.
Because it totally sucks.
I will literally have a vein popping out
of my left foot sometimes from swelling.
Peeing all the time.
Not being able to do anything on my own.
Now I'm stay-at-home, and I can't even stand up to
do the dishes for ten minutes without my hip hurting
and having to take a rest, it makes me feel very useless!
Especially knowing my husband's out working hard.
I don't like it.
I can't even shave without difficulty for Pete's sake.
It's mostly an independence thing. I really don't like
needing help. I'd rather do it on my own.
All the attention.
I've never enjoyed center stage!
However, I realize that's not going away any time soon.
Considering I'll have an uber-cute Mr. Man with me.
Maybe if he's a total jerk that'll slow things down...