I’m not a fan of “due dates”. I haven’t been since long before this pregnancy. Working in the birth industry, I feel they do more harm than good. I wish they passed out “due months” instead. Doesn’t that sound so much better?  It’s really all just an estimate anyway. And picking one date, it seems silly to me. And it puts a lot of pressure on the mom.  The medical community uses it as an end all way to often and it frustrates me. All moms and babies are different.

I’ve been apprehensive to share my due date publicly and cringe every time someone asks online or in person. I realize it’s a harmless question each and every time it is asked, and that no one means any harm.  It’s a fair question. And I fumble a bit every time it’s asked of me. I try and say things like “soon” or “any day now” or “October”. But I can always sense they want more, they want the number date on the calendar.  And I feel clumsy as I waiver around giving it.  The reality is my uterus and my baby do not know what day it is. There is no calendar in there. They could both care less. What they do care about is the intense biological process needed to send us in to labor. That happens when Jonah decides its time. Not an assigned date on a calendar. Our personal choice is that we wouldn’t induce labor without medical necessity. You’d be surprised how many people have asked me when we will induce to move things along or when I’m being admitted. Even before 40 weeks. I know it’s really common. People seem surprised when I say we aren’t opting for an induction.

Honestly, this is new territory for me.  I’ve never made it to a “due date”.  Ty arrived at 36 weeks, Taryn and Jude at 37. So really I’ve never even made it to 38 weeks. Until now. I won’t lie, I was ready a month ago. Emotionally and physically. I’m currently 3 and 4 weeks plus more pregnant than I have ever been before. I feel overdue. And done. And I knew I would wake up emotional and out of sorts on my due date. Even though it was just another day on the calendar. It comes attached with expectation.  Or some sort of pressure.

But then I got a long text from my husband. He turned my day around from one of feeling frustrated, overwhelmed, defeated and just…..done, to one of accomplishment and pride. He told me how proud he is that I’ve provided such a strong and healthy home for Jonah.  And that making it to 40 weeks is an accomplishment, one he’s proud of me for. He said he’s thankful for the sacrifices I’ve made during this pregnancy. It has been an easier pregnancy for sure. I credit my diet to that 100%.  A diet that hasn’t been easy to follow with the intense cravings that come along with being pregnant.  But I’ve done it, I haven’t cheated, no matter how badly I wanted to.  Hearing all of this from my husband brought it to life and made me feel proud too.

So, even though my due date has passed and Jonah didn’t make an appearance, I’m ok with that. I’m more uncomfortable than I have ever been in my life. And cranky. And hiding from a lot of the world.  I can’t breathe, it hurts to walk, sleeping is painful, just moving is a chore.  I’m ready to hold my baby boy in my arms and see his sweet face for the first time.  I’m ready to fall in love with my husband all over again watching him with a newborn.  I’m ready to experience our first home birth together as a family and see my older children welcome Jonah.  Until labor begins, I will also know that I accomplished something. We accomplished something. And I’m pretty proud of that right now.

Jonah doesn’t care what day it is. He will arrive when he’s good and ready.