Yesterday was my 39 week appointment. We got the midwife that looks, sounds and acts just like Eric’s sister. Now, I like this lady, she’s sweet, but when the discussion turned to getting the kid out ASAP, it got a little weird.

MW: So, has your body been acting like it wants to get him out?
Me: On and off. Not as much as I’d hope for.
MW: Well, if he doesn’t come by your next appointment, we’ll set a date.
Me: WOOHOO!
MW: So…go home, have sex in the afternoon or morning. Have a little afternoon romp.
Me: Uh, okay…

Eric’s sister’s twin just told us to have sex. If we had been thinking about it before, I certainly wasn’t after that. As we left, Eric kept shivering, “I don’t think I liked that…It was like my sister just told us to have sex…”

The good news is that we now have a set day that we can say we’ll have a set day by – the 6th. I’ve already decided there will be no “setting a date” from there. If he hasn’t come by then, I will beg and plead and promise free work if she will admit me to the hospital, break my water and let that baby come on Saturday. I refuse to have this child hanging out for another couple of weeks. It is time to come out. Now!

I also asked her if she could give me an idea on the size. She felt around a bit and said, “7lbs…..4oz. But I could be off…” Wow. 7 pounds, FOUR ounces. Don’t get me wrong, I trust in her abilities. I trust in all the midwives abilities, but I think the addition of the four ounces was to make me feel more sure about the guess. Yeah, it didn’t work.

Still, it’s nice to know I probably don’t have a 30 pounder in there. Just maybe 29lbs, 4oz.