I will try to make this as interesting as possible. Since the due date has come and gone, I am nothing more than a watched pot waiting to boil. But watching water boil isn’t very exciting.

The problem with a lot of pregnant women (and brides-to-be, if I’m allowed to say so) is that they are entirely myopic. The whole world is spinning but they’re oblivious. So, I just want to beg for forgiveness. I know it’s your birthday, I know that your computer broke, and I know that bugs are eating your lawn. But ….I’M HAVING A BABY!

Or at least I thought so.

I woke up in the early hours of my due date yesterday with a huge baby shift. Finally, maybe Baby got out of that posterior position. Good thinking there, kiddo. Contractions began in earnest first thing in the morning about 7 – 10 minutes apart. Understanding how these things work and knowing that I’ve had only about four weeks of this same prodromal drama, I decided that today was different because the calendar said so. I stayed in bed with my bucket and Greg stayed home from work.

Lying in bed all day, I was storing up my energy for the big event that was surely coming any minute now. But when my friend, Tracey, offered to bring over a Toffeenut Mudslide Frappachino, I decided that maybe getting out of bed was a good idea after all. I sipped my caffeine infusion over contractions and enjoyed the nice buzz afterward. When she left, I told Greg, “NOW, I’m so ready.”

He ordered a babysitter, and Kristen came over around 5:00 p.m. We drove to an Indian restaurant next to the hospital, bringing our bags because contractions were now about 4 – 7 minutes apart. During dinner, they shifted to 3 minutes apart and I was unable to talk through them—a great dinner date. Things were crankin’ and I was getting uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that I didn’t finish my Chicken Tikka Masala, nan, and veggie pekoras. (I have priorities, and I know that people languish in starvation in the hospital.) I’ve heard stories about eggplant and labor, so I didn’t share any of the eggplant pekoras with Greg. No way.

So we decide to walk around the hospital fountain, just to get things going really good and just because it was right there. I was still making jokes, and that’s not a good sign, yet the contractions were still strong and hard. In order for me to be in a strong labor pattern, I have to be concentrating, really annoyed, and pseudo-cussing. When our path brought us around to the entrance, I waited for my water to break so it could be like the movies, but nothing happened. And I mean nothing. Everything SCREEECHED to a halt and we got back in the van and went home.

Sometimes I wish my life could be like the movies.