Happy Due Date to Me

Today is finally my "due date" for little Faith. It turns out that some genius has felt compelled to arm the world with the knowledge that mathematically, January 23rd works out to be the worst day of the year. Gee..thanks.

Of course, Faith didn't get the Due Date memo or the Dooms Day memo, so I don't have to worry about her being scarred forever knowing she was born on the worst day of the year. I'm actually feeling rather upbeat after a doctor visit this morning. In one week, I have progressed to 50% effaced and 1 cm dialated. That is a lot better than hearing "closed up like a clam". At 40 weeks, most pregnant ladies would be climbing the walls with that news, but this is certainly "progress" for my Uterus of Steel, and I'll take it.

The doctor and I both agreed that we'd probably be seeing each other in the uneventful setting of the OB office next Monday. He didn't recommend induction at this point, and I don't want to induce just yet anyway. I've never been in a hurry to rush what isn't finished. I'm guessing that February 1st might be a likely induction date if there is little change by next Monday. The goal is to be home to watch the Superbowl --- who wants to be in a boring cold hospital for the Superbowl?

So today, I figured I'd give a little ground to reverse psychology, and celebrate by packing for the hospital. I'm still willing to put up a good fight against UOS (Uterus of Steel), but it would admittedly border on stupid and irresponsible if I didn't have my bags packed by my due date.

cue the music...Happy Due Date to Me...