I am a week away from my due date, and yesterday afternoon/evening was the first time I could have honestly said that I might have been possibly, maybe, could-have-been-but-not-quite-sure, kinda-sorta in labour.
I am planning on a home birth, so last night before I finally went to bed I laid plastic down on the floor, pulled out all the old towels, got baby's clothes ready, and double-checked where the camera was hiding. I was ready for things to happen.
I went to bed listening to my hypnobabies CD and hoped for the best, knowing that I had probably jinxed myself by preparing for the labour so thoroughly. And, ugh, wouldn't you know it? I didn't sleep very well due to the anticipation of it all, and I've woken up to a new day and am still pregnant. Boo. Hiss.
It's not that I'm trying very hard to get the baby out; I am a firm believer in babies staying put until they are good and ready to be born. However, it would have been nice if this baby was good and ready to be born LAST NIGHT, or EARLY THIS MORNING.
A good friend of mine recently trained to be a Doula, and she is hoping to attend my birth as part of her qualification process. She is so excited for us, which is lovely. I wouldn't describe my current feelings as excited, though... frustrated, tired, fed up. Looking forward to holding the baby in my arms, but after the long drawn out contractions of yesterday, not particularly looking forward to the real thing.
It's amazing how much you forget between babies. This is my fourth child, and I was sincerely hoping that the labour would be a simple affair. (hence the home birth scenario) My friend would put a positive spin on it -- after yesterday's practice session, my body will birth this baby with no troubles at all!
At this point, I'll take anything I can get....