Why did they create due dates? To torture heavily pregnant women?

Is it genetics, or just my shape? Somehow, my babies like to over-cook, and I am left peddling in purgatory – so large I can barely walk, with hips and groin ligaments in absolute pain every time I stand up or lie down.

Granted, I am only four days over, but I am dreading waiting the full 14 days, which Elka made me wait. Shall I have to be so patient? Or can I descend into a state of self-pity, as I hide myself away from persistent questions, like “When are you due?” or “Has the baby come yet?” or “How are the contractions going?”. Believe me, you will know when it happens, and in the mean time I will continue to wait…ahem…patiently.

This period in waiting does teach me a thing or two about life.

I am learning that it is human nature to want to control a situation.

For instance, since Sunday night, I have eaten two large pineapples, three hot curries and one bar of chilli dark chocolate. I have had three hot baths. My husband has massaged the critical “inducing labour” points. I have walked daily. I have had a sweep. I have visualised. I feel like I have done everything.

Why do I feel the need to do…to control the uncontrollable? When the baby is ready, he or she will release the hormone which stimulates the cervix to open. If the time isn’t right, mountains of pineapple, hot curry and acupuncture every day will make no difference.

I can’t control the uncontrollable, as much as I believe I can. I just have to wait.

I have also been thinking about our tendency to link unrelated events.

For instance, yesterday afternoon, I scrubbed the letterbox. It was covered in bird poo and cobwebs. I had already cleaned the kitchen, the laundry, the bathroom, sorted clothes cupboards and set up the baby equipment. But until yesterday, I had neglected that vital object at the front entrance. The letterbox.

Somehow, I believed that maybe the baby has been waiting for me to clean the letterbox.

Meanwhile, Greg was in the supermarket choosing chocolate. His decision was based on what he thought might affect the arrival of baby. He chose orange dark chocolate (not sure what this means, exactly).

Neither orange dark chocolate or a clean letterbox were enough to convince this baby to enter the world. Who knows, maybe these events are completely unrelated.

The third thing I have learnt is that I am not a patient person. I want this baby to come now, and refuse to accept that it may still arrive on the 14th of October. That is too far away, and I will do everything I can to prevent this occurrence from happening.

When I am lying awake in the middle of the night, I try and get myself back to sleep. I count sheep. I let go of each thought as it arises. I visualise myself falling back into slumber. But the only thing that actually works is the thought that comes to me at some point during my insomniac state…It doesn’t matter. I will fall asleep eventually. Just don’t worry about it. At once, I fall asleep.

Perhaps, in my period of not-so-patiently waiting – this purgatory between no baby and baby – I should apply the same tactic. This is, after all, something I can do.

And so…It doesn’t matter. I will have this baby eventually. Just don’t worry about it.

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{flogging with Grace this Friday}