Pregnancy update: she's still cooking

Today I am more pregnant than I have ever been. I feel like someone should hand me a balloon bouquet and a cookie cake in honor of this momentous occasion, but I couldn't fit even one bite of that damn cookie in my mouth. In fact, I made the mistake of eating dinner last night. You know dinner, right? Sure you do; you're not 39 weeks pregnant. I haven't eaten dinner in weeks, except for last night...and I paid dearly for it. I was up in 30 minute intervals popping Tums and stretching and coaxing the food and the baby to get the hell out of my ribs, thankyouverymuch. At a certain point, I realized sleep was futile, so I took my 287th shower this week and got ready for work. At 4am. There is no need for such preparation, especially during the last two weeks of school, a time in which my students fake it 'til they make it. I want to fist-bump them on their way in the classroom and say, "solidarity, man," but that would be wholly unprofessional of me, so I give them work and grade it and hold them accountable until the bitter end. At least it gives me something to do until this baby decides to arrive.

But at this point, day-to-day interactions are becoming painful. Yes, I am still here. Yes, I know I am huge (thanks, asshat). Yes, I too am disappointed that she has not been born. No one is more disappointed than I am, I assure you. No, I will not do jumping jacks down the hallway, drink castor oil, or deliver the baby in the stairwell. But if my water breaks spontaneously, I hope it's all over your shoes.

I'm a little pissy (see lack of sleep above).

The reality is that this level of discomfort has shattered all previous records and, even though I am not due until next week, I'm already thinking of planning an induction for the very near future. Those who knew me well even 5 years ago realize how ridiculous that sounds coming from me. When I was pregnant with Atticus, we hired a doula, took every step possible to avoid unnecessary medical intervention, and knew that the baby would come when he was ready. We even tried to plan a water birth with a midwife, but our insurance wouldn't cover it. Now I'm willing to perform my own elective c-section if it means I'll no longer be pregnant. I'm joking. Kind of.

So to those of you waiting for me to announce that the baby has arrived, I'm sorry to disappoint. She's still taking her sweet time. But I promise to post here when she does (and it will be riddled with typos due to lack of sleep and one too many margaritas). Until then, please stop commenting on my size, asking if she's here yet, or giving me the sad eyes as I waddle down the hall like an obese penguin. Seriously, I love you, but stop.