One year ago tomorrow was my due date. One year ago I was still at work, hoping every night when I went to sleep that *that* night would be the night. I envisioned waking up with contractions, taking a warm bath, then waking up Tim to say those two anticipated words: "It's time." But it wasn't to be. Every morning I woke up and laid there for a minute, making sure that I still felt perfectly normal and there were no contractions to be felt. Then onto rolling myself out of bed, waddling around the house to get ready, drive to work and here those three dreaded words: "You're STILL here?" Ugh. It was kind of cute the first time but by the 312th time, I wasn't so amused. Although it was a little funny when people asked when I was due and I said "last Friday." Funny now, although I'm pretty sure my 41 week pregnant self wasn't laughing.
I did everything I could think of to get this kid out of me. I spent hours walking around the mall with nothing to show for it but blistered heels and swollen feet. I bounced on an exercise ball every night. I tried evening primrose oil. I ate buffalo wild wings every weekend for a month. I ate an entire pineapple by myself for pete's sake.
This was one determined child. Even after 20 hours in the hospital, 12 days late, I remember the nurse telling me he was so far north he was practically in Wisconsin. I had visions of him clinging to my lungs with white knuckles, holding on for dear life. But out he came, though not willingly, by doctor's scalpel and prying hands. When I was laying on that table, I could feel the pressure as the doctor pushed and pulled, way up under my rib cage, to pry him out. He had a will that was not giving in!
It's funny now, but he still has that will. He's generally a pretty mellow-ish little one, but when that will comes out, boy does it come out. As he tries his hardest to flip over and crawl away during diaper changes and squirms and cries and struggles to win the fight and get away, I tell him "do not get into a battle of wills with your mama, because that's one battle you're going to lose."
It's hard to even remember one year ago. It's hard to picture myself being 40 weeks pregnant, now that my body has returned to its normal self again. If it wasn't for that scar on my belly, I'd wonder if the entire pregnancy was some dream, it seems so foreign now. Sometimes I miss that little body in my belly, rumbling and tumbling around inside me but I sure do love that little boy, tumbling and crawling all over me when I lay on the floor!