People warned me that this would happen, but I didn’t believe.
I spent the entire month of April living in fear that if I got out of bed, the baby would come early and I’d have to live with guilt and a sick infant. So in bed I stayed, believing that once I hopped back out, the baby would come and a proverbial pat on the back would be mine.
It’s only been five days. This I know. But come on, little girl! I had more contractions six weeks ago than I’m having now! What’s it gonna take?
So today, in an attempt to make myself feel like I have ANY control over the situation (I’m fully aware that I do not), I made myself a list. If I get to the end of it without launching into labor, at least some of the undone chores that have been bothering me for a month will be done.
Clean windows [check]
Wipe down inside of fridge [check]
Sweep and mop floor [check]
Touch up bathrooms [check]
Go grocery shopping [check]
Sweep garage [check]
Fix black pants [check]
De-clutter office [check]
Dust bedroom furniture [check]
Put away “transfer basket” items [check]
Iron Tyler's church pants [check]
Sweep off front porch [check]
Almost finish The Holy Secret [check]
Take a short nap [check] and wish it was a long one [check]
Watch Neighborhood Animals with Gavin [check]
Field half a dozen "Are you STILL pregnant?" questions at preschool pick-up [check]
Vacuum upstairs, downstairs, and the stairs [check]
Reheat leftovers for dinner [check]
Deliver a baby
6:00 p.m. post script:
Still no baby. Hardly a contraction, in fact. The house is very clean and my feet are very sore. Humph.