By week 39 of my first pregnancy, I was really over the whole experience. I began to work from home that week, thinking it would be better to stay close as I got closer to term. Imagine my shock when it would be almost another three weeks until I actually gave birth. Going past my due date was the worst.
You would think that 9 months is ample time to prepare for having a kid. I mean, if you can’t wrap your head around becoming a parent within that timeframe, it might not ever happen. But as the days past my due date came and went, whatever confidence I had about birthing and mothering this baby started to wane. I became anxious, started to overthink everything, and really hated looking at the inside of my apartment.
Adding insult to injury, I had to make even more frequent trips to my OB’s office for sonograms because my doctor was concerned that the baby was “measuring small.” They wanted to check on growth every couple of days. The schlepping made me exhausted.
Finally, at 10 days past due, my doctor determined that the amniotic fluid was on the low end of “normal,” constituting a reason for admitting me so I could be induced. I wonder how much longer my daughter would have hung out in there if we had let things continue to proceed naturally. But I was done. (My son came late too, but thankfully it was only by three days.)
So here are some thoughts I had as I blew past my due date… with both kids.