Technically, I have a little over 4 more hours left in what should be Davey’s scheduled due date; however, I feel that he is definitely not going to make it today.

I’m told that your first child is usually late. This isn’t the rule nor is it the exception. Am I frustrated? Yep. Am I tired? You betcha. And I suppose here’s the worst part…I’ve become so antsy as of late, that I’m annoying not only my husband, but also my dog and most everyone else around me.

My doctor asked me last week if he should prescribe me some patience pills? Yes, please, but I suppose he should have prescribed those years ago.

There’s nothing left for me to do except relax and wait for Davey’s arrival and I’ve never been one to do either of those things. Stress is not good, or so I’m told, but for the majority of my life I have thrived and excelled on the rush of adrenaline brought along by stress. I find myself these days unaware of what to do. My house is clean. The nursery is prepared. The bags are packed. What am I missing? Trust me, I’m eagerly looking for something to do other than the bed rest that I’ve been relegated to. If any of you out there have any suggestions, I’m all ears.

Tomorrow is a new day and I’m already worried about what I will do. There is only so much reading I can do in one day, so much writing I can do, so many episodes of Law & Order I can possibly watch. And what’s worse, if I sit for too long then I become tired which means I take a nap, and I hate sleeping. It’s so unproductive, although I’m told that I’ll be eating my words soon enough.

So, hopefully tomorrow I’ll have something new and exciting to report. Perhaps the long and dramatic story of how my water broke and my husband, in his excitement to get me to the hospital, trips and falls meaning I have to drive both of us to the hospital, all the while Davey is already crowning. Highly unlikely, and I would rather have a quiet and easy labor, but you never know.

Stay tuned…Davey’s arrival is imminent.