Today, I am relaxing – I met up with a friend this morning and I’ll be checking out the tv this afternoon.
I spent the last two days cleaning: mopping, dusting, scrubbing the patio and the balcony, moving [light] objects around, and doing laundry. You would think that might have accomplished something, baby-wise, but no. However, my place is now clean and ready for our pet-sitter to show up any time. So we have to get this birthing show on the road or, in a few days, I’m going to have to start cleaning all over again.
In the mean time, I’ve moved on to tempting fate.
I made it through my coffee date this morning. I have a lunch scheduled with my co-workers on Friday, another coffee date on Sunday with a friend and yet another lunch next Tuesday with Mr.Q’s cousin. That takes me well past my due date of June 1 or 2 [depending on which calendar you look at] and into dangerous territory, but that may just be the route we have to go.
The longer this goes on, the more stretched out my poor belly button gets and the bigger and bigger babyQ gets…that may sound a titch superficial, but the expansion of my belly button is literally the only thing I can see anymore. Despite being able to feel the size of my ankles and toes, they’re simply lost to me.
We also have a scheduled appointment with Dr.R tomorrow. Aside from several well-known wives’ tales for kick starting the Impending Birth [some of which we’re trying, some of which we’re not…yet], perhaps she’ll have some grand, magical insight for inducing labour. I’m even almost willing to contemplate it if it’s the grand, magical, medicinal kind.