37 Weeks.
When I was thinking about writing this post earlier in the week, I was filled with optimism and anticipation. Tuesday I really thought I was going into labor. I had the majority of the "early warning" symptoms. I was hoping that after my Dr's appt today I was going to report that we are baby watch level orange. But alas, we are not. I'm wrapped up tighter than a present on Christmas Eve. Apparently the hours of "contractions" I thought I was having throughout the week, were due to Monday's night Indian Buffet, and not the fact that I'm 9 months pregnant.
I've also had a pretty horrible day which included horrible news about a family member, getting suckered into an over-priced car wash (a "mini detail") that took 30 minutes longer than promised, having to climb my pregnant ass up a ratty play structure to rescue my kid who climbed to the top and freaked out and wouldn't climb down, realizing - while stuck in traffic - that said car wash STOLE MY MOTHER FREAKING iPOD from my car, apparently not being able to handle my prenatal yoga class anymore without limping the rest of the day, all which led to high blood pressure and a mini-break down on the way to the doctors.
fun, fun.
fun.