I had to laugh at Celti's comment from yesterday never to tell blogland if she gets pregnant. It's not just blogland. In fact, that's the least of it. I have to deal with constant phone calls from people saying "you didn't have that kid yet?" as if I have ANYTHING to do with when it comes out. Believe me, if I could press a button and go into labor, I would. I welcome the pain. It would be a relief. Bring it, I say. Anything to take my mind off of things.
Fuzzball is doing well, with lots of fluid surrounding him/her. We could have found out the sex at our ultrasound today, but we figured what's the point? We've waited this long, we might as well be suprised when he/she finally decides to come out. I do know that I have a VERY big baby in there. The ultrasound tech said 8 pounds 7 ounces. All I have to say is PLEASE COME OUT SOON OR MY VAGINA WILL NEVER BE THE SAME (that is if it can even come out of there at this point).
All of the people who guessed my due date were wrong, and I think all of the people that guessed the weight were wrong too. Fuzz likes to keep everyone on their toes.
My doctor said that nothing is happening with my cervix, so chances are I'll be induced next week. I'll get to schedule that on Monday. Until then, I'll cry 20 times a day, grind my teeth until my jaw is sore, and try not to scratch. That seems to be my daily routine.