Today's the day! Well, kind of. Today is my actual due date, I have been pregnant for 40 weeks and by my doctor's math, today I should be delivering our baby boy. Obviously, this little guy has something else in mind. Kerry and I have decided that whatever day he decides to make his appearance will dictate whose child he really is. If he should follow in my shoes, he would be born right on time (I am notoriously early to everything!) and if he is a little less than punctual, he'll deliver a few days late, following in his proud papa's shoes. Well little guy, you have about 15 hours to be punctual, anytime after that and he's bound to live his life via "Kerry Time." For those that don't know, Kerry's motto is better late than never. He arrives for his flights 33 minutes before takeoff, carefully plants himself in his movie seat 3 minutes after the first preview and believes that dinner reservations are simply a suggestion as to what time he should arrive at the restaurant. I, on the other hand, like to arrive 15 minutes early to everything. My claim to fame was once showing up to a party one hour early (purely accidental, I swear!).
Last night I thought for sure I was going into labor. Not that I had any symptoms, I just had a feeling. I tossed and turned for hours waiting for the first sign of contractions. I figured out this morning that the dessert shop we visited last night probably made me a full caffeine mocha instead of decaf, causing my body to race, therefore completely throwing off my maternal instinct!
Luckily, today is Kerry's last day of work. He'll take the next two weeks off and hopefully catch up on some sleep this weekend (as long as baby Forell doesn't interrupt!).
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Baby Forell needs to interrupt!! Seriously. I know your womb is probably pretty cozy, but this kid is obviously unaware how sweet his future digs are. Though actually...can he just wait till I come home? I mean really...what's a few more weeks? I would love to be there.
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