I am 8 days past my due date. It doesn't really bother me too much- 41 weeks is not too much different than 40. But, toward the end of each day, I get an attack of anxiety when I realize that I still haven't delivered the baby! I'm at the point where I get to have a fetal non-stress test twice a week. I don't mind these tests- the gallumphing of my daughter's heart is somewhat soothing, and I like seeing her hair flow in the movement of the amniotic fluid. My placenta, they say, is still looking great, and I'm still not dialated. I've done all of the things that I need to do- the bassinet is set up, the changing pad has taken over my dresser, and I even bought some socks. I'm trying my hardest to keep the house clean and stocked up with food, even though my efforts are constantly nullified by others. Clark and I hang out all day just waiting for the inevitable moment of my daughter's birth.
.JPG)
