To birth or not to birth?

Ok, folks. Needless to say, last week was not, in fact, the "big week" as predicted. And who knows about this week. I hate to say it, but I'm beginning to lose hope. Here we are, the end of the first day of my predicted birth week, and I've still got relatively little to show for myself. 2 days until I'm scheduled to arrive, and I hate to say that Mom and I have gotten no signs for the go-ahead.

(Actually, if I'm being completely honest here, I suppose I should admit that I'm partially responsible for the delay. It's not that I'm not super excited to abandon the confines of these tight quarters, or to stretch my legs and breathe some fresh air. But, at the same time, I'm afraid I've developed a slight case of separation anxiety. I mean, what if the outside world is even more uncomfortable than my womb? How can it possibly be comfortable, for instance, to be so dry all the time? And what about Mom? I mean, as snug as it is in here, I guess it's been nice having all this time to bond. I'll miss all the time I've spent with her and her organs. I just can't imagine that calisthenics are nearly as fun without a ribcage to swing from and four uterine walls of support.

I don't know, maybe it won't be so bad out there. But...what if it is?)

Well, despite my recent change of heart and its accompanying protests, Mom has been trying her best to coax me out. She and Dad racked up some marathon miles over the weekend, walking all of St. Louis and its parks. She's still on the herbal regimen and I think I overheard her talking on Saturday about trying some new method of extraction, something to do with something called castor oil. Who knows if it may have worked or not, but to me it sounds like a stomach-ache waiting to happen.

I feel kind of guilty to keep everyone waiting like this. (Especially Dad, who has been attempting to "sing me out" of my womb. "Follow the sound of my song" he sang to me, as though I don't know my way out. Good try Dad, but direction is not the issue.) But I just want to be sure I've made the right decision when I do decide to emerge from my intrauterine haven. No regrets, you know? What emotional confusion! I hope real life isn't nearly this demanding.

Anyway, hang on just a few more days, everyone, and then maybe I'll consider making that long-awaited trip down the canal. And Mom, just in case I chicken-out, maybe you should invest in a back-brace or something because I have no intention of letting this little delay stunt my growth.


Thanks for your patience,

Harper Jayne