I’m still pregnant.
My due date, March 25th, came and passed rather uneventfully much to my dismay.
I never ever once even considered that I would be overdue. I had always assumed that I would give birth to my daughter earlier than her due date. After all, I was born early. Why wouldn’t she?
Apparently, she is quite comfortable in her home and more than a little unwilling to leave, though she is beginning to run out of space. Her latest hobby is punching my cervix, resulting in sharp twinges of pain that make me flinch. Though I have long since given up on wondering whether or not every contraction is the beginning of early labor or just Braxton Hicks, I do have a small (and ever diminishing) hope that I will spontaneously go into labor and not have to be induced next week. Only time will tell. Until then, I am attempting to not be too discouraged about still being pregnant and distracting myself with the company of friends. I must admit, having time off of work and seeing people that I love isn’t such a bad thing; in fact, it is rather delightful.