The due date

Today is a big day around chez Nishkanu.  It’s my due date.

Now, I had no illusions that this would be the day the little one comes.  After all, average day of delivery for first-time moms is 41 weeks 1 day, so we have plenty of time to go before even the average day arrives.  But still, it feels like a huge milestone.  The little one could come at any second, it is full term.  Who would have ever thought I would make it this far?

Now, could somebody please let my colleagues know that it is not unusual to go post-dates?!  I am now at the point where Every Time I see Any Colleague they feel compelled to say, “Oh, wow, you are still at work!” Yes, thanks for sharing, but I had already noticed.  And it isn’t really an interesting topic of conversation the first time in the day, let alone the 17th.   One poor colleague came into my office this afternoon and said (you’ll never guess), “Oh, wow, you are still in!” I said “Yes, I am aware of that.  I do not need you to point it out.  Or the other 15 people who have let me know that fact today.”  He said, “Are you tired?”  I said, “Yes, I am tired of people commenting on the fact that I am in!”  Then, feeling a little bad about my outburst, I added, “I am also a little cranky.”  I think he would have been well within his rights to respond “Yes, I am aware of that”…

In other news… had a bit of a scare yesterday. Normally, when I wake up in the morning the little one seems to wake up around the same time.  It seems to like getting in a little session of kicking Mr. Nishkanu in the kidneys before we get out of bed.  Mr. Nishkanu complains about these but secretly you know he likes it.  At least that’s my theory.  Yesterday morning, though, for some reason the little one was mellow or sleeping and didn’t kick around.

During the morning I was working and not really paying attention, but around 1 I started to think to myself, “Gee, I haven’t really felt a lot of movement today…” I grabbed some lunch to get the blood sugar up, then ate some chocolate for good measure (yeah, I swear, that was “for the baby”), then grabbed the belly to do an in-office kick count… one measley twitch, that was it.  The little one is usually a circus acrobat, so this was making me nervous.  I went home, drank some juice, and lay in bed and tried to do a real kick count.  Normally I polish off the 10 kicks in 10 minutes or under, this time in 10 minutes I felt two tiny squirms that maybe were baby movement or maybe my imagination.  I started to imagine all the dire scenarios… what it would be like if the little one had died…  coming home from the hospital with a small box and the house full of kid’s stuff… whether we would keep everything and try to adopt, or just give up altogether… then I snapped out of it and called the midwives to go in and have the heart rate checked and avoid the whole insanity, or do something about it if there was a problem.

Sure enough, as soon as I was in the recliner with the fetal monitor strapped across the dark side of the moon and a contraction monitor orbiting the top, the little one woke up and started getting acrobatic again.  I think some of the “contractions” that they measured were actually the baby kicking the contraction monitor.    That’s fine because the important point is, baby was A-OK and super healthy.  Thank god.

The midwife on duty that day was the super interventionist one – she offered to strip my membranes (to try to get labor going) and wanted to do a vaginal exam to see how dilated I am.  I said “No thanks, I am not in a rush, the baby will come when the baby comes” and that earned me a little lecture on the dangers of going post-dates and when they will start bugging me about being induced.  I listened politely and continued with my refusal of the in-my-opinion-totally-unnecessary vaginal poking around (my theory is, we can start thinking about interventions when I am post-average-first-mom dates, or have some other reason to expect that there is a problem).  But the whole incident did make me realize the temptation of induction and all its friends… it would be nice to have the baby on the outside where I can check at home that it is still alive instead of poking my belly and hoping it wobbles back.



  1. chicklet said

    I got soooooo sick of ppl commenting I wastill pregnant – yea, glad to see you’re all so freaking smart as to NOTICE I’m still pregnant. Wise wise people they are…

    Re the due date, I found my due date exciting in that it meant absolutely for sure, in the next 10 days, the kiddo would be here. previously it was always a possibility, but due date meant guaranteed countdown. Which was exciting adn freaky all at once.

  2. Lisa said

    I so understand!! Last weekend I went for a good period of time without feeling the baby and it scared the freakin’ hell out of me. Of course, the next day, she was trying out for the olympics gymnastic team in there, but, it’s still so scary when it happens!!

    I’m still a week and a half from my due date and a week away from my scheduled C-section and I know exactly what you mean. At this point, I would just feel safer knowing she’s on the outside, where I can see her and touch her and not have to have those irrational fears about what might happen on the inside. This is excacerbated by the little complications that have started to creep up over here, but, I think we are just both so ready to have our little ones on the outside, where we think we can control more!

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