39.5 weeks

I am really convinced that I'm going to go late with this baby. And apparently I've done a good job convincing others of that as well, because so far I've more or less avoided the scourge of being asked every 10 seconds if I'm in labor yet.

(Though I did take an Internet break this past weekend to avoid having NFL scores spoiled for me, since we TiVoed the playoff games, and came back to several messages wondering if my silence was due to being, you know, at the hospital in labor. But I can't complain, because I wonder the same thing about other pregnant women who are near their due dates when they disappear.)

Anyway, for the record: I'm still here. Still pregnant, still working. Still not uncomfortable. Still not noticing any major progress that would imply that labor is just around the corner. Still totally, completely, utterly fine with that.

(Though as pseudostoops and I discussed yesterday, if he came on or before his due date, his birth date would be a palindrome, and that would be pretty cool. But he's already missed the chance to have his birthday be 1-11-11, so I'm guessing a cool birth date isn't very high on his list of priorities right now.)

Anyway, yes. The kid is still inside me, I am still totally fine with that, and I am so so so incredibly grateful to be fine with it. I know that most women who are just days from their due date are miserable and desperate for the baby to just come out already. I do not feel that way. I am really not even uncomfortable at all. And feel so incredibly lucky to be able to say that.

But yes, I fully expect to be able to take a belly photo on my due date, with the baby still inside me. So if I disappear from Twitter again this weekend, don't worry: it's just because of football. We like to watch the games on a delay so we can fast forward through the commercials.

But to tide you over, here we are at 39 weeks, the baby and me. Lesson from all this: in any subsequent pregnancies, use a longer shirt for the belly photo series.