Any Day Now (Please)

Thirty-nine weeks and I am DONE. Like, stick-a-fork-in-me done. The hospital bag has been packed for two weeks and sitting by the front door like it’s mocking me. Marcus reorganizes it daily because apparently that’s his nervous habit.

Any Day Now (Please)

Sophie has become the pregnancy police. Every morning she asks ‘Is the baby coming today?’ and when I tell her we have to wait until he’s ready, she gets this look like I’m personally inconveniencing her. This morning she actually said ‘Well tell him to hurry up because I want to meet him.’ Girl, same. I told her maybe if she asked nicely he’d listen better than he listens to me.

I’ve tried everything - spicy food, long walks, bouncing on that exercise ball Marcus bought that Biscuit is now afraid of. This kid is clearly taking after his father and operating on his own timeline. Marcus keeps saying ‘He’ll come when he comes’ which is very zen and also makes me want to throw a pillow at his face.

Any day now, little man. Any. Day. Now.