I have been trying to come up with a good analogy to having been hugely pregnant 9 times. Not just pregnant but really pregnant. Beyond what normal pregnancy is. 8 times I have gone post dates. Thats beyond 42 weeks. 8 times. In a row. I know lots of women with as many or more kids as me and not 1 has that kind of track record. Someone could do a paper on me. I could be a great science experiment. Its not a distinction I enjoy though. I loath it. With every fiber of my being.
First, let me dispense with the misconceptions. No, It does not get easier every time I do it. It gets harder. No, they don't just fall out. I wish. Today I am 3 days from my due date, guess whose not holding their breath for an on time baby?
Now, I finally came up with a good analogy parents can understand. Being this far along each time is kinda like when your child spills something on the floor. Sometimes its not such a big deal, you just figure God wanted you to mop. Other times its when the child spills an entire 2 liter of strawberry soda on the floor 10 minutes before guests are supposed to be coming over for a party and you were up all night the night before and already had a massive headache. Then there are the in between times when its is certainly inconvenient and a lot of work but not the end of the world. Are all your pregnancies the same? Mine aren't. I have had some that were easy sailing, where 42 weeks didn't seem to be that big of a deal. Then there are other times where I was beyond done at 36 weeks. And I don't mean I was impatient. I was in severe pain and ill. That everyday seemed like an eternity, where life all around was awful and distressing and I could barely function let alone deal with things like deaths, refinancing, moving, illnesses, etc.
This time its more of an in between pregnancy. I am not miserable, yet at least. But its not been easy either. I think God wants me to be nocturnal. Between the night sweats and the acid reflux I can't sleep at night. During the day, sure no problem. But I have these things, called kids, that don't seem to do well without a mother present much of the day.
But there is one thing I really do enjoy about going late every time. When I talk to a stranger and they inevitable ask when I am due and I get to say Last week or 2 weeks ago their eyes get big like saucers and they take 2 steps back. Everytime. Like I am about to drop the baby on the floor right there. Then I get to laugh at them and walk away. Yea...thats fun. Almost as fun as when they ask if this is my 1st!