The day is almost here. Well, that is to say the totally bunkus due date that really means nothing in the grand scheme of things. Thursday, technically, September 10th, is the date my doctor picked spinning his magic wheel. Ah pregnancy, somehow the longest and shortest nine months of my life ever.

Waiting for baby is a unique and horrible experience. Every book says the same thing “you'll know when labour really starts.” I've had a lot of false labour over the past couple of weeks but since none of it has been more painful than menstrual cramps, I haven't bothered to venture to the hospital. The last days have been irritating. I have bursts of energy but soon get exhausted after doing some work around the house. Then I begin to feel generally unwell but none of that has lead to actual labour. My Braxton Hick's contractions have become increasingly more intense, yet they seem to lead nowhere. I keep trying all the tricks to bring labour on, like walking or eating hot, spicy food. I've even tried other methods, like procrastinating about the school work that's due at the end of the week. Surely that should work. Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is, he'll arrive when he's “good and goddamn ready” and not before. So until then, I just try and get as much done as possible until my life is forever turned upside down.

It's not all bad. Evil Scientist can hardly wait. When I start to feel a bit off his face just lights up. I'm enjoying reading a book a day because I know that that won't be something I get to do a lot after baby is here. I still DO NOT regret the time I've taken off before the arrival of my first born. My weight has stopped climbing in the last month and I gained exactly what my mom gained with me.

I can't really claim to have had a difficult pregnancy. Not physically, anyway. Nausea to begin with and acid reflux in the last couple of months is hardly much to complain about. My joints have gotten really sore this last month but again, that's pretty minor. Emotionally, I've had a rough time but given my personality, that was expected.

I'm excited, nervous, happy, sad, worried, afraid of post-partum depression but most of all I'm so anxious to meet him. It's hard to believe that the bassinet in our room is going to have a little person in it in a few days. Unless, of course, this whole thing goes into overtime.

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