It’s no secret that I’m hardly a patient person. I get my kicks out of sticking to my schedule, and it makes me feel happy and safe. I’m sure all the experienced parents out there know by now that kids absolutely destroy your ideal schedule and the concept of a “perfect, balanced” life.
When my due date was approaching with my first son around the holidays two years ago (January 9), I was a nervous wreck. I made the mistake of thinking that my baby would pick up my scheduley vibes and arrive right on time, waving hello to me as he shot out of my vag. Also, I was a little smug about the whole due date thing because my mom told me I was born on my due date. Even at birth, I was prompt and punctual, but my first son apparently didn’t get the memo in utero.
He was actually eight days late, to my surprise, born on January 17. Those eight days were the longest eight days of my life because I really can’t handle the unknown. I was also super jealous of other Facebook friends that were popping out kids left and right around my due date. It seemed like no one had an overdue baby, except me!
I even made the mistake of thinking that maybe, just maybe, my son would be born early on a holiday like Christmas or New Year’s Eve. Little did I know I would have to wait three or four more weeks before our “bundle of joy” arrived.
In this holiday season, I’ve already seen a few friends on social media that appear to be feeling my pain from a few years ago. One friend was definitely more than eight days overdue and ready to pop a few weeks before Christmas. Even though it’s an exciting, wonderful time for everyone waiting for the new baby, I remember all too well how effing annoying it was to have people constantly texting and Facebooking to ask where the baby was after the due date had passed.
I can’t even imagine being overdue on a holiday. Those “bonus” eight days of my pregnancy were absolutely the worst. If I had to prepare for Christmas and entertain family, I’d probably claw my eyes out or pull the baby out myself, one of the two. (Clearly, I wasn’t the most pleasant pregnant person and being overdue didn’t help.)
If you’re ready to pop this holiday season, you have my utmost sympathy. Waddling around, sweating, and worrying about when your water is going to break just isn’t my idea of a good time. Overdue babies are the not-so-fun part of pregnancy that no one seems to tell you about. As a happy ending to the story, my second son was born exactly on his due date (just like me!), which kinda made up for the eight days of torture with my first kid.
(photo: Getty Images)