Well, today is my due date. Not that that means anything to my baby. He's just chilling and doesn't seem to pay any attention to the schedule. Babies are notoriously inconsiderate of timelines. There are a bunch of old wives' tales about how to get labor started. I'm just making up my own, like eat a giant bowl of ice cream every day. I'm 100% sure it will work eventually, and I will be like "See, I ate a giant bowl of ice cream, and within 24 hours, I went into labor!" (unless I have to get induced, and then the my theory will be unproven)
Other than being roughly the size of a whale (baby is the size of a watermelon or pumpkin, allegedly), I had a pretty good weekend. John and I mostly just tried to make the most of our time as a family of 2. So, we went out to eat, watched a movie, took a long (sloooow) walk around the neighborhood, had dinner and played cards with his parents. And I tried to sleep a lot. The goal is to be well rested at all times.
On Sunday after church, we took these pictures. So this is what I actually look like at 40 weeks pregnant. We saw a squirrel in the tree, and of course, my photographer was distracted by it. I was doing my normal poses, and noticed that the camera was pointed much higher than usual, and I was like "Are you taking pictures of the squirrel??" and John was like "what?!" but the evidence doesn't lie:
Anyway, here's hoping I have a baby this week!
Cardigan: Old Navy
Dress: Loft Maternity