You know, 41 weeks is not at all an abnormal gestational period. In fact, in France, 41 weeks is considered full term. I feel normal (though extremely uncomfortable!) and the baby is just fine. She apparently loves it in there. I have provided for her an ideal, optimal climate, where she is never cold, doesn’t know what hunger is, is always held close to my heart, which she listens to day and night, and still has the freedom to kick and squirm at her leisure. She enjoys hearing my voice, and music, and is rocked to sleep each day by my walks. Of course, her little head is now bouncing against a softened and effaced and partially dilated cervix, so that’s different, but she doesn’t yet mind enough to decide to evacuate. But soon, she will. Soon!

I am somewhat bored and impatient. It’s tough to really move around much. I haven’t gained any weight in three weeks, but the baby is now positioned so low in my body that she feels like she’s swinging between my thighs (exaggeration). Everything seems go for launch. Just waiting for that one last change in chemistry. I’ve done what I can to inspire her; walking, sex, more walking, bargaining, etc, and been given a few scattered irregular contractions and the loss of the plug. She kicks me firmly each day, which tells me she is in good health, and still has some room in there, so I don’t need to fret that she is “too big.” She has always measured perfectly, in the 50th percentile.

Tomorrow I have another doctor appt, one I had hoped we would not need to attend. They will want to do an ultrasound, and I am considering declining that, as it is basically pointless at this stage. They will ask to sweep my membranes (this is to try to get my water to break), and I will say no. They can listen to her heart, how about that. Maybe do the non-stress test, which is a fetal monitor. They will find out she is normal and fine. They will talk to me about induction, and I will say no, unless they can give me solid evidence that my baby’s health is in decline or in danger. Remember the first sentence of this entry?

I will start to really worry after 42 weeks, but I don’t think it will take that long. I feel changes every day, an increase in discomfort around my womb, stronger (irregular) contractions. They feel like my belly is suddenly tighter, literally contracting its muscles, which soon will force the baby down against the cervix repeatedly, and one centimeter at a time, draw it open for her passage. That is what labor is. The pressure and other chemical/hormonal changes will weaken the amniotic sac and at some point cause it to break. My coworker told me it felt just like a water balloon popping inside her body.

So, I am still pregnant. In the morning I wake up, sit up on my pillows and look down at my bump. “Hi, baby,” I always say, and her little butt moves under my hand.

I don’t have anything planned today except taking another walk in the beautiful perfect fall weather. Oh and I am also going to clean the downstairs (kitchen and living room), albeit slowly, and reward that with a nap and watching the baseball game.

Just got my weekly email from babycenter. It’s all about caring for my one-week-old infant. Because every baby in the world gestates for exactly 38 weeks (+2 when you start with the first day of your last period. It is very unscientific). You know what? Fuck you, babycenter. Unsubscribe.