It's ten days til my due date, and I am getting really restless. I am physically pretty comfortable, but emotionally just eager to have Kate out and about, to see her and meet her and start this parenting adventure. Plus, I've made such careful (i.e. obsessive and neurotic) plans at work to ensure no work is delayed or lost due to my absence, that it's starting to feel awkward showing up every day, after all my talk about how it could be "any time." (It really could be any time, but not knowing when that time is is quite unsettling to a planner like me, and itmakes me feel like I'm crying wolf.)
We had our weekly doctor appointment today, and she said my cervix is softening some, but it sounded like she was being generous with her estimate of one centimeter dilated. After a weekend full of irregular, painless contractions and other phase-1 symptoms, I really thought we would have made some more progress. Asked for her estimate of when I would go into labor, our doctor said, "Not this week," but even she admitted right after that that I could make a lot of progress overnight and suddenly be in labor. So, I shouldn't be too disappointed or concerned.
Hard as it is, I've got to enjoy these last days of DINK-dom (double income, no kids), and of this special time that is pregnancy. It really is magical, feeling her squirm inside me as I rock in the chair in which I'll spend so many hours feeling her (yes, it arrived yesterday, so now the nursery is totally complete). I love this little girl so much. I can't wait to hold her in my arms, but as Matt reminded me today, I'll never be able to hold her as close as I am right now.
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You know, this would make the best sermon illustration if we were Dispensationalists. But we made the mistake of reading the whole Bible, so we're not. Oh well...
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