38 weeks. Our baby could arrive any time. I’m happy/sad/anxious/excited, all over the emotional map.
We’re not ready.
We’ll never be ready.
But he’s on the way. It’s just a matter of time. It might be today, next week, or next month, but soon we’re going to have a bouncing baby boy.
Faithful Reader’s father said, “Definitely Sunday.” He also said it would definitely be a girl. True, he probably said that to prepare himself in case it was a girl, because he wanted a boy so badly, but he still said it and so we can’t trust his precognitive abilities.
My doctor will be on vacation next week, so I think the baby will arrive then (but later in the week than Sunday). I don’t want a complete stranger delivering my baby, which is why it’s so likely. That’s ok, though. On the bright side, it will give me a few more days to prepare myself mentally, but I won’t have to keep carrying the baby into July. Being pregnant in July sounds incredibly undesirable at this point. I am huge and feeling it and ready (physically) to get the little guy out of me.