Due dates are such tricky things. My OB gave us an original due date of the 19th – three days from now – which she is still maintaining as Arthur’s “official” due date. However, our 19-week ultrasound (not to mention the two subsequent, in which he’s been measuring ahead of dates) established that today was the more accurate due date.
But what is an accurate due date anyway? Babies, much like wizards, are neither early nor late but arrive precisely when they intend to. That’s what I’ve been telling myself, anyway, to try and overcome what has been the most difficult week of the pregnancy so far.
Since last Friday I’ve had four prenatal appointments (with another scheduled for tomorrow), as well as a false alarm visit to the hospital. All that’s changed in any of those appointments is that this week I picked up some water weight thanks to the change in the weather. In the meantime, I’ve been contracting the entire time – sometimes more frequently and lately more intensely, but not enough to actually make any further progress. It’s frustrating, uncomfortable, and heartbreaking.
Because…it’s Father’s Day. And despite this pregnancy teaching me throughout that I really can’t always get what I want, my fondest wish was that Brian could celebrate today with his son in his arms.
Well, instead we’ll celebrate this as almost-Father’s Day. And we’ll see just how far into this week our little prince intends to go.