I know I already had the baby, but I still want to document the end of my pregnancy, to perhaps remind myself just how miserable I was. I made Ian take these pictures when I knew for sure that I would be going in to have the baby. I was 40 weeks, 5 days. I had Willa the next day, at 40 weeks, 6 days...squeaking in just before 41 weeks.
You guys, I was fully convinced this baby was coming early. Because of that, my last weeks of pregnancy was m-i-s-e-r-a-b-l-e. Exactly two weeks before Willa was born, I was actually convinced I was having the baby. I had non-painful contractions consistently for a couple hours. Because of this, I packed my hospital bag, laid out clothes for the kids for the next day, wrote down the kids school schedule, made their lunches...and then NOTHING HAPPENED. It was such a disappointment. But it also made me think that labor had to be happening soon. I spent a week constantly making sure everything was ready for the kids in case I went into labor. It was exhausting. The midwife even told me at my 39 week appointment that she thought I wouldn't make it to my next appointment.
Honestly, after I hit 40 weeks, my attitude got better. I think I realized the baby had to come out sooner or later and that it would happen soon. Of course, going in for an appointment at 40 weeks, 4 days and having the office staff say, "We didn't think you were going to show up. We thought for sure you would have had your baby by now" felt like quite the blow. But leaving that appointment with an induction day for the next day put a spring in my step. That was about all that put a spring in my step though because my 10 minute appointment turned into a 2 hour appointment after they decided to monitor the baby and check it's fluid levels, etc. But still, I knew an end was in sight.
On Wednesday, the day these photos were taken, I excitedly packed everything into my hospital bag. All my toiletries, everything. After I called about my induction at noon and was told they were full and to call back again at 5pm, I felt a little discouraged. I remember telling my friend at ballet that if I have to unpack my toiletries, I will be so bummed. Thankfully, that never happened thanks to some random doctor who I never even met that said, "You are post due. It's time for that baby to come out!" Thank you, THANK YOU random doctor!
And the rest is history.
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