Week 40: Ticking Time Bomb
Tick, tick, tick.
I knew it was possible that I would go beyond my due date again. I went to 40 weeks and 5 days with my first child.
But who really wants to believe that they’ll be put through that again?
But, here we are.
So what do you do when you’re past your due date?
Hand off responsibility of raising your children. Let Grandma take center stage. Send your kid to daycare without an ounce of guilt. If you can’t do either of those, turn on the TV and embrace the zombification of your kids because it’s preserving your sanity.
Walk. Because it’s the only exercise you can really handle at this point. And moving at least 30 minutes a day gives you a better chance of going into labor.
Do yoga. Practice your breathing. Get in some good down-dog and butterfly poses.
Lie on your side. Because it takes the weight out of your back and pelvis. Which now feel like jelly.
Avoid people. Or at least the people with whom you have to engage in small talk. You don’t want to constantly think about the fact that you’re beyond your due date. But it’s the only thing on everyone else’s mind. Don’t get pissed about it. They either can’t help themselves or they don’t know what else to talk about with you.
Read. Start books that you don’t mind if you don’t finish. Because you probably won’t.
Nap. This is the best part. By far. Especially since you’re only sleeping in 45 minutes increments throughout the night now. Because you need to pee, or shift sides, or eat at 3:00 a.m. (Because, of course, the baby is hungry again.)
Google the probability of going into labor on this particular day. I liked this website. I currently have a 57.93% chance of going into labor today. Tomorrow, the probability increases to 61.79%.
Do puzzles. This one is driving me nuts right now. But I’ve got a feeling I’m ready to bust this case wide open.
Write. Whatever you want. Without much thought. Because it’s mostly about passing time and not so much about imparting words of wisdom.
Be still. Honor the beauty of silence and suspension. Because soon the day will be full of crying and cooing, dishes and laundry, visitors and friends.
Let go of the perpetual need to accomplish. Because soon “accomplishing” will have much, much different definitions than it does today.