I made it: I'm 37 weeks. This baby is full-term.
True confession: I really didn't know what that meant up until I got pregnant. I always thought that your due date was your due date and if a baby came earlier than that, well, it meant you had a preemie.
I have two good friends who had their babies come earlier than 37 weeks, and both families are doing really, really well. But seeing it happen to people you love really does make you pay attention to the dates on the calendar, which is why today is so important to me and my husband.
If I go into labor now... we're
still freaked out because we're first time parents and will now have this little life to care for and nurture and we're clueless golden!
Our celebration will consist of some quality couch time. I'm still on bed rest because of the swelling and the spike in blood pressure (see older blogs), so I'm taking it super easy around the house. True confession #2: it was a big deal for me to put on something other than pajamas at 6pm yesterday when we went for dinner. Oh, how quickly a type-A can morph into a type-slacker when given permission by medical authorities.
But being lazy is kind of... nice, at least for now. I'm still pulling out DVDs from my collection of weirdo movies no one ever wants to watch but me. It's a great excuse to get some more mileage out of them. True confession #3: I'm not allowed to choose the movie anymore after an ill-fated selection at a recent girls-weekend. They're a Jennifer Anniston/Kate Hudson chick flick kind of crowd and I thought it might be nice to try something different, so I brought along Spirited Away. As they sat there, slack-jawed, staring blankly at the screen, I realized that we would not, in fact, follow up that showing by watching my collector's special anniversary edition of Akira.
I do have one small errand today. The husband and I need to make a run to the baby store and I've already prepped him that I want to ride around in one of those little jazzy scooter things, even if it's a touch overkill. I think they have little horns and backup alarms on them. I plan to be a holy 2 mile per hour terror in the breastfeeding supply aisle.