The Big 4-0

Today is my due date. I think.

At first my doctor said my due date was April 14th. Then we had our first ultrasound and it changed to April 24th. Then I saw on some paperwork that it was April 23rd. One day I noticed that my online account with the doctor’s office said April 28th.

I tried to ask, but they get all huffy:

“So which is my real due date?”

“Um…the 24th…”

“Okay, because I heard the 23rd and then I heard the 28th so I wasn’t sure…”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter. That baby is gonna come whenever it wants.”

“Yes, but every two minutes someone asks me what my due date is and when I say ‘I don’t know’ they think I’m stupid. And they might think I’m an unfit parent and report me to social services.”

That’s when I decided to go with the 23rd, because it was the soonest. But that was a mistake. Because basically, ever since April 1st, people have been acting like I’m overdue:

“You STILL haven’t had that baby!! I can’t believe it!”

And when my doctor said they would induce me one week after my due date, I INSISTED on knowing the real date. I mean, now it matters. If my due date isn’t until the 28th, I have to wait until Cinco de Mayo to have this baby.

He said the 24th. And that’s today. So I have to have the baby by Uno de Mayo.

And since there’s no action going on as I write this (except for a lot of hiccupping by BS), you can probably rule out today, my due date. You could probably rule it out anyway because only 5% of babies are born on their due dates.

And BS is not exactly cooperative.

So good news: I’m not sick. I made it to 40 weeks. There is an end in sight.
Bad news: The milk in the fridge will go bad before BS gets here.