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Baby Watch 2016 Update: Pregnant and I know it

I am officially 39 weeks 2 days, which is when I had both of my own babies. So it is official. This baby is never coming out. It's going to live in my womb forever until it's 18 and can legally be on its own. I'm going to ask the parents to come live with me so that they may watch their child grow up within my body. That's it.

Ugh finnneee it probably will come out. One day. But today is not that day. I honestly have never had a pregnancy where I was trying to get the baby out, but I'm starting to wonder about this one. I'm not particularly "miserable" or "done" although the prodromal labor played with my mind a bit. Then last night I had a super good bloody show, so I knew for sure I'd be in labor within minutes. But heeccckkk no. Not even one good contraction has been had since that little sign. So I don't know what to think.

I did go walking around the outdoor fancy swank swank mall today and no less than 50 people looked at me and CRACKED up at my ridiculous belly. I felt like Santa. Big. Fat. And bringing joy to the masses. 

I think the thing that messes with my mind is that I get these labor signs and I get all excited. Then when nothing happens it's like blue balls for the uterus. So here we are at 39 weeks creeping up on leap year day or whatever in the blazes you call it. And crickets from my uterus. Baby was rocking and rolling around, but acting happy as a clam to stay put for now.

My labor is certainly not as active as my phone! Now that thing is dilated to a 7 at least because holy cow the action on that bad boy is cray. Everyone is quite interested in my cervical status these days. Which I totally get! And appreciate. I love that I have so many folks who care about muh lady bits. I'm just sad to disappoint when I tell them that you could hear a pin drop in my birth canal.

I have had several people also ask me some really funny questions lately. As you probably guessed I'm totally open about this being a surrogate pregnancy. I sometimes feel like I'm oversharing because I'm quick to tell EVERYONE who asks about my belly that it's just a rental.

The principal at Sunshine's school asked "any day huh?" and I blurted out "Yep! Then I'm wild and free!" Quickly realizing she didn't understand I lightheartedly followed up with "This is a surrogate pregnancy, so it's not actually mine for keepsies."

She responded with something to the effect of "Oh my goodness have you prepared yourself to give it up? Do you feel ready!?!? What a gift!"

The only gift I'm giving is of my time and vaginal blowout. I don't think I quite put it that way, but I realized that a lot of people still don't understand what exactly gestational surrogacy is. Sweet Pea's teacher asked if I'd managed to find parents for the baby yet.

Ummm yes....I found the parents before I ever found the baby?

I'm starting to see that my recovery period may be super interesting with all the people who don't really get how this all works. I understand to a degree that they might not understand the emotional part. Truthfully I only assumed I knew what it would be like. Luckily it is 100% what I thought it would be like.

The whole process is so different than getting pregnant with my own. With my babies I just had a few conjugals and waited for a positive test. Hell with Sweet Pea I didn't even know what was going on until I wanted to murder my husband. The only time I want to murder is when I'm 6 weeks pregnant.

With this child I formed a relationship with the parents before it ever existed. We went over contracts. I waited for them to choose an egg donor. We waited for the little beebee to be created in a petri dish. I took rounds of IVF meds for the first transfer. And I watched my own ovulation happen with the second. I saw my own egg follicle mature and drop. I didn't bone anyone when it did. Then I literally watched them suck up the baby in a straw, carry it into the room and inject it into my baby baker. I guess because I witnessed all the science behind it, that might help in the disconnect.

But also I'm not planning to have a baby in my house. All the shit around here is for kid kids. I don't have diapers and burp clothes and teeny little onesies. I have Girl Scout cookies out of my ARSE and Lincoln Logs and random jars of sticks and rocks from the backyard. I'm not trying to come up with baby names. I'm trying to remember the names of Sweet Pea's friend from school who follows the rules. Is it Jack or Jackson? One of those two is a stinker and one is her best bro. I need to know which one to invite to her birthday. I'm not trying to come up with a middle name that goes rhythmically with the only first name the Hubs and I agree on.

Even so, I do see that there are people who are very concerned about my mental state these days. They seem to think the baby's not coming because my body and mind aren't ready to "give it up."

So to remind you that I'm all too happy to give this baby BACK to its parents...I have compiled this video of me trying to wiggle this child out of my body and into the arms of its ACTUAL PARENTS.


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