Overdue. Over it.

40 weeks 4 days pregnant. That is no small feat. I'm proud of myself for lasting this long, as if I had a choice. So far, I've managed to avoid a major meltdown. And I'm hoping writing this blog post prevents me from a real nervous breakdown that I feel brimming on the horizon.

This is unpleasant, being this darn pregnant. In the mornings, I wake up, realize I'm still pregnant and fight the urge to cry. Come on! I want to meet our son and not be so darn pregnant for another moment.

To my friends, all of you, that are expecting, I wish each of you a nice, easy to decipher water breakage around 38 weeks. Hopefully the only way you are familiar with the side effects of a post due pregnancy are through my experiences.

Here are my overdue thoughts, learnings and complaints - for those who want to read my whining.

• This freaking hurts. These cute little kicks and rolls are now full fledge assaults on my innards. I feel bruised from the inside out. Now, I'm glad he's moving around so that I won't need to be paranoid about 'decreased fetal movement', whatever that really means. But, wow, it hurts.
• I wasn't upset with my weight gain (nor was I thrilled, though) - until the last 4 weeks. When did it become humanly possible to gain 4 lbs a week? Water weight, water weight, but it's still weight. That I have to lug around. Which brings me to the next item...
• Nothing fits. To a crazy stupid extreme. My leggings are stretched to the max. I should be embarrassed to type that, I suppose, but I'm not. I'm over it. Rusty said to me last night, "Wow, those pants sure do you look beautiful on you." Being completely sarcastic. Thank you, honey. You remember that when you see your son for the first time.
• My face is puffy. Unattractive. My knees are twice the size of Rusty's. No joke.
• Where did my pregnancy hair go? Seriously? It was the one thing I could count on.
• I've shaved my legs more in the last week than in the last 9 months 'in case' I go into labor. I cannot control much, but I can be sure my legs are not stubbly.
• In the middle of the night, I can feel the poofiness of the tops of my feet when I shuffle to the bathroom. That is gross.
• I've been in multiple stores and told things such as, "We don't deliver babies here." and "Shall I go boil a pot of water just in case?" Really? Come on people.
• Then, there's the precious, blessed pedicurist yesterday who said "I didn't make the water hot because I know that would be miserable for you." Bless you, woman. My toes look fabulous.
• Having to start every single phone call with "No, I'm not in labor, but guess what blah blah (insert totally normal conversation here)" is getting old. So is missing a call and knowing that person is thinking I'm in labor at Rex. I then feel the need to immediately release them from this false excitement.
• Which then again puts me saying for the ten zillionth time, "No, I'm not in labor or anything of the sort." Or "No, he's not here yet." Which then reminds me that I'm not in labor - again. Because I needed another reminder. :)
• Being pregnant and a project manager are not complimentary things at the end. Sure, they are great when you are planning, researching, shopping and setting up house. Not great when you are used to having a good, solid grip on things and find yourself left with no control.
• Despite all he does, nothing Rusty does is good enough or sympathetic enough right now. That's not his fault entirely, but really if he says he's going to bed early because he's 'soooo tired' one more time I may explode. Love you, babe.
• Yes, I'm bouncing on my exercise ball. Yes, I'm walking. Yes, I've done every chore in my house that could somehow maybe induce labor. I'm over all of that. He'll come when he's good and ready. He and God have that worked out and apparently I'm just not clued in yet.
• If I'm told on Monday that I'm going to be induced any time past Monday, I will probably lose it on the table. Rusty, be prepared for that.

I'm sure I'll immediately say this was all worth it after meeting Asher. But right now, I'm freaking miserable. And I'm allowed that, I've decided.