Three Days Overdue

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll be pregnant forever. This little guy has decided that he’s not coming out; he’s much too cozy in my womb, where he at least gets HBO.

So from now on there’s no fun to be had. I’ll get to stare longingly at the over 100 bottles of wine sitting just feet from where I am right now. I won’t be able to put my socks on with any semblance of grace or poise and I’ll be doomed to constantly be woken in the middle of the night by both an urgent need to pee and a few good kicks to my pelvic bone.

So far the only thing I have to look forward to is when the Guiness Book of World Records comes calling to declare my pregnancy the longest in the world (according to the internet that’s only twenty days from now.)

Maybe I’ll get a feature article in the Edmonton Sun, in their Lifestyle section of course. I’m sure some studies will be done and I’ll be used to scare off teenagers from sex to avoid becoming “the girl who was pregnant forever”… or maybe I’m overreacting.

Three days! I was so convinced I was going to deliver early and this little guy was going to follow in the footsteps of his dear ‘ol Ma. I guess he’s got his own timetable which for now, does not include being born.

I’ll keep you posted but at this point – I see no immediate evacuation of my uterus.