The trash collectors woke me up this morning, and I remembered that we have to decide by July 1 if we want to pick a new trash company or not. July 1 is a ways off. Except then I realized, today is the first day of June. I’m due June 21st, and I’m being induced June 12th, and today is June 1st which means no matter what, I am having a June baby. A full-term June baby.
I could just type “full-term June baby” 100 times and this post would maybe express a fraction of the joy, relief, excitement, and miracle that this feels like.
Yesterday I turned 37 weeks, which is considered full-term (though an average pregnancy lasts 40 weeks and that is what my due date is, anything between 37-42 weeks is considered full-term by the medical community). The odds of our making it here were stacked against us, though why I should be surprised that we came out on the smaller side of odds is a mystery to me. Had another appointment yesterday and I’m up to 3 cm, but again they said that’s a normal range for 37 weeks and that they see no reason to assume I won’t make it to my induction.
Which was another shocking phone call I got this week. A voice mail from my OB’s nurse, letting me know that they’d put me on the induction schedule for June 12th. The baby who wasn’t supposed to be able to even get to full-term has made it long enough that I’m on the induction schedule because of my clotting issues. I’ll be 38.5 weeks then. Listening to that phone call was one of the more surreal moments of this pregnancy; it feels like we accomplished the impossible and the real winner in all of that is of course our son. Who definitely won’t be a preemie. Who weighs nearly 7 pounds now.
We’re having a full-term baby in June.