come out, come out

I'm now six days past due, and trying to stay positive, but it's getting harder. I know that plenty of people go longer than I have, but saying to myself "today could be the day" everyday for the past almost six weeks is starting to wear on me. I don't really have anything to complain about, because it will happen when it happens, but saying that and actually feeling it are starting to be two different things. It doesn't help that I was having regular contractions last night, and really thought "this is it!" and then.....nothing. Second time that's happened.

I thought it was interesting that during my third and final acupuncture appointment yesterday, I could actually feel the baby moving around in a way he hasn't before. Almost undulating himself into position, and then an hour or so later the contractions started. I kind of always thought that acupuncture was an interesting concept, but ultimately with no scientific basis. One of those "you have to believe it for it to work" deals which even though I really wanted to I didn't completely. However, after my appointment yesterday I can't deny that something was happening when I became the human pincushion. I might even consider going again at some point in the future if Western medicine fails me first.

COME OUT BABY. There are nice things here like cheesecake, and monarch butterflies, and that time of day when it's not quite sunset and everything is glowing orange. You'll like it.

tomorrow, tomorrow

Tomorrow is the day. The day that seemed for the better part of a year like it would never come. I've basically been holding my breath waiting for it, and now it's here and it's surreal. The DUE DATE. Dun dun dun. I realize that babies only come on their due date about five percent of the time, and so I'm not really getting my hopes up, but just to know that I made it to this day that's been looming for so long is a comfort in and of itself.

I probably should have started writing about this whole pregnancy process a little sooner than now. It would have been nice to look back on, but I just couldn't allow myself to write about it for some reason. Maybe it's because for months and months (and maybe another month) I was so terrified of something going wrong that I didn't want my feelings about it put down anywhere concrete. As long as they were inside my head they, and he, were safe. I realize now that doesn't make much sense.

I've started blogs before - some just for me, some I've made public. Some I tried to keep to a theme (ala the failed cooking blog when I was inspired by "Julie and Julia"), which usually lost their allure soon after the first post. Some I kept for a few days, some I've kept for years. I don't know what this one will be. I'm trying not to put a label on it. I can guarantee there will be much baby-ness, with probably some crafting, thrifting or whatever else I feel into at the time. I'll try to keep the ranting to a minimum, but to cut it out entirely just wouldn't be me. Mostly, I just want to keep track of the little moments that happen in my life, and the life of my growing family. Because I know how fast they're going to pass.