40. Weeks.

Welp, this is what it feels like for all my pregnant cohorts to deliver before me, to feel like the last month of pregnancy lasts forever, to feel like the baby is never going to come. I couldn't bring myself to write a 39 week update because I thought surely he'd be here the next day, then the next...

I've had a few more nights of prodromal labor that amounted to exactly nothing, though, so if I went through a lot of denial, anger, and bargaining after changing birth plans, I've gone through depression and acceptance in the past two weeks. Just today, I really felt like I was able to accept that he really is just that cozy and safe in there. Likely the warmest, securest, safest place you'll ever be, I guess. Reframing it has helped. I no longer feel like something's "wrong" and he's not going to be able to come out. He's just not in a rush and so far, that's okay. I'm not going to harshly evict him just because I'm uncomfortable. Time to practice what I preach ;-)

I went to PT yesterday and felt like baby "dropped" a lot by this morning. His AFI was 16+ and HR 143 at today's OB appointment, I measured at 38 weeks which maybe corroborates with the feeling of "dropping" and also reassures me maybe he's not ginormous yet. His head was down and flexed and ready to go! I went to acupuncture for gentle "induction" after lunch, and then to the chiropractor ("you are not STILL pregnant!"). Then we had our first outdoor playdate in ages which certainly kept me distracted, if not self-conscious about how little we've seen other people these days.

Pregnancy in the time of this stupid virus has brought a lot more stress than I anticipated, given that it seemed to be fading out when we got pregnant back in March, and this isn't my first baby. However, the world as it now presents itself and affects personal relationships has had its tremendously stressful and isolating moments, and even normal cold and flu season after Rosie's RSV scare is enough to keep me in hiding. I've been SO GRATEFUL for the sunshine and unseasonably warm weather, and the kids mostly seem to be getting along and enjoying the change of pace... for now. I'm hoping this lasts!

They're getting pretty tired of the answer to, "what's the plan for tomorrow?" simply being, "waiting for baby brother." While on the one hand, it's a wonderful illustration of Advent, on the other, it's getting fairly monotonous.

After he didn't come by Thanksgiving like we initially told the kids, we all placed bets on when he'd be born. Winner gets to pick the next place we get takeout from. Rosie was the first to place her bet, confidently saying he'd be born on his due date (today). I bet that he'd come last Saturday when my doula got back in town. I had 3 hours of contractions that night, but clearly no baby. Noah bet November 30, which came and went. Then tonight at bedtime, Rosie sadly said, "I guess baby brother forgot it was his due date!" Ross voted for Dec. 4 which was offensive at the time ("you're betting on me being uncomfortable for another week?!") but doesn't seem so far-fetched now. 

I can't believe November wasn't baby month, after all the prodromal labor, let alone the significant birthdays and milestones and memories it holds. But maybe this is part of God doing this new thing. It's all new. This baby exists because God wants him to exist, not because he fits some neat and tidy narrative, as much as my brain like that sort of thing.

Baby brother, I love that you're chill and safe and you know what you like. But also, gosh, we are so ready to snuggle with you on the outside. As fun as your copious wiggles are on the inside, we are just ready to meet you in full after 9 months of experiencing you in part!