The good news is that everything seems to be coming together- all my ridiculous visions and pre-baby plans. The bad news is that despite my record-shattering size and my seemingly fail-proof labor day theory, I am not feeling laborish at all. Oh, I've had some laborish moments in the last couple of weeks, sure. And some crying for no reason and some comalike sleepiness. But he's just....not cooked yet. I can tell. Even though I am 13 pounds over what I was on Mary's delivery date, I can still tell.
Ready for the jaw dropping photographic evidence of me gaining over 50 pounds already this pregnancy?
So sorry for the terrible quality of this photo, y'all. I just did not have the energy to keep focusing and snapping and angling and trying again and again to get all the things correct. Maybe we can pretend this was lifted off of some security camera footage or something cool like that.
Oh! And let's not forget that I COULD, maybe, possibly, actually only be 37 weeks, too. Which means we COULD, maybe, possibly, actually be looking at the second week of June and oh, my swollen feet are not at all even tiny bit stoked about that. My one and only consolation if that happens is that it will prove that I was right all along about my version of the dates and fancy pants ultrasounds can bite me. But will that be consolation enough? Time will tell, my friends. Only time will tell.
p.s. please feel free to provide for me your tested water-retention-abatement procedures, tips, and tricks. Because these sausage feet are 17 kinds of terrible.