Getting close?

Today I am two days away from my due date. A certain someone who shares my DNA was born two days before his due date. So clearly today ought to be the day. But so far, no dice.

Things have been rough in the Langford household lately. Milo spent the better part of the week sick. Throwing up and feeling extra sleepy (except at night, obviously). Good for cuddles, not good for our stress levels. I've had a cold, and so has Andrew, but we have avoided the stomach bug, it seems. I've spent more than one evening in absolute misery, crying while every single part of my body ached. Convinced that I could not be pregnant another night.

Every night I'm up multiple times for bathroom trips and leg cramps. Oh my god, the leg cramps. After the months of nausea and vomiting, they're my least favorite part of pregnancy. "Get your sleep now," random people say. Shut it, I think. I'd much rather be awake nursing a baby several times a night than up peeing and whimpering in leg-cramp pain several times a night.

Today is my last day at work. That's for the best, as I am completely unable to focus for more than five minutes at a time. I cannot tell you how many times I've had the same conversation at work. It goes something like this:
Other person: You still here?
Me: Yep, still here.
Other person: When are you due?
Me: Sunday.
Other person: Oh wow, so soon!
Me: I know, any day now!

It's really happening, though. Hard as it is to believe, I will go into labor at some point and end up with a baby. A baby girl, my daughter. I will soon be a mommy of two, and my son will be a big brother—the oldest child rather than the only child. I'll see my husband turn into a father all over again, and I'll fall in love with him all over again.

Soon. Very soon.

39 Weeks, 4 Days

So. Over. It.

Confession

My due date isn't really February 6. It's February 5.

I know. Shocking.

At my first doctor's appointment, the nurse asked what my LMP was and when I told her, she turned that little paper circle chart to come up with a due date of 2/6/12. Which, mathematically speaking, is a pretty awesome due date. At my next appointment a few weeks later, I was told my due date was February 5. I said, wait, I thought it was the 6th. They explained that sometimes when they put the info in the computer, it spits out a slightly different date than the paper circle.

Oh. So that's fine and all, but I really preferred the 6th. I figured at the doctor and for anything official, my date would be 2/5, but in my mind and what I was going to tell people would be 2/6, just because I liked it more.

But ohhhhhh, my. Now that both dates are within spitting distance, I really really want to focus on the 5th. Because that is one day closer. One day sooner to The End.

Which is ridiculous. I know this. If stubborn baby doesn't come out on her own, I'm not going to be induced until February 16. WHAT? That is absolutely too far away. This morning I woke up with general pregnancy aches and pains, plus a headache and sore throat. Just generally feeling sick. I stayed home from work, and have since spent some time on the couch, watching TV and convincing myself that I cannot be pregnant for one more minute. I honestly don't know how I would make it to 2/16. Everything hurts.

Please send go-into-labor-NOW vibes my way. Whether you go with 2/6 or 2/5, I just want this baby out asap.