Maybe he'll just fall out in my sleep
So it's been three weeks of, "Any day now!" Friday's appointment included the offer of a membrane sweep (gratefully accepted) and the news that I was three centimeters dilated, almost fully effaced and still at zero station. OB predicted labor within 48 hours. Later that afternoon, massive downward pressure, significant contractions, bloody show and my premature assumption that he was really and truly on his way. Needless to say, that assumption was false.
The contractions continue on and off around the clock, but are most noticeable in the middle of the night. They are mildly painful--a breathe-through-it kind of pain, not a grit-your-teeth-and-groan pain--and so very regular during certain stretches. (Last night, every seven minutes on the dot for two hours. I subsequently had a dream in which I was giving birth while asleep and couldn't rouse myself to get Jeff up to cut the cord.)
Today, I threw caution and rest to the wind, gathered up an under-the-weather Josh and ran errands for three hours. I hoisted heavy items--flats of water, a jumbo-sized Costco bag full of groceries, and Joshua himself--much to Jeff's concern. Felt good not to act like an invalid.