No one is humping this Mommy

We are now 3 days passed due. Unless Harriet arrives in the next hour and ten minutes, she will not be born on Christmas day. Hallelujah. Daddy asked me what I would do if we won the lotto last night. Despite my best efforts to stay positive about the whole natural birth process, I laughed maniacally that I would opt for an elective Cesarean to get this puppy out. I really couldn't stop laughing. Which of course made me want to pee. Laughing uncontrollably is never a good thing this late in a pregnancy. It leads to other uncontrollable things.

I kicked Daddy out for the full afternoon. It was glorious. No one called or asked me if she was here yet. No one asked if they could do anything for me. No one told me to stay in bed. Truth be told, Daddy gives the best foot rubs, so I'm always glad when he is around, but also appreciated some quiet time. I'm starting to feel like a cat that has found a dark closet and is just waiting for her litter to be born. I really don't want to talk to anyone or leave until she comes out.

Unfortunately, I have to see my midwife and acupuncturist every day at this point. The Seattle roads have been crap with the snow. Lets just say each trip is a bumpy, brutal, contraction-filled ride. Daddy wants to talk and ask questions and its all I can do to hold my ginormous belly and breathe deeply while snapping at him to shhhhhh. Much like a pregnant feline, I've resorted to scratching and and hissing.

That's all for now. As you can tell, Daddy has much more to say due to a normal case of verbal diarrhea. More from him later.

Mommy