We are officially in the final countdown until Sarah's birth. My next doctor's appointment is on Tuesday evening, and we will discuss induction at that point. There is a very real possibility she will be born this week, and the idea that this time next week I will have our daughter in my arms makes me feel kind of like the Grinch, with a heart bursting out of the little box that holds it.
Contractions are coming; some days I have more, others less. As of last Tuesday I had not dilated any farther than one centimeter, but as she is my first that's not necessarily unusual. The only thing we're really concerned about at this point is how big she will be (and really I'm more concerned about that because, well, I'm the one that has to get her out and her Daddy does not exactly have the smallest head in the world.)
Thanks to a friend in the area, we have a co-sleeper that functions as a bassinet, so Sarah can stay in the room with us, as well as a very lightly used breast pump that I'll just need to get new tubing and small bits to use when it gets closer to time to go back to work. My bags are packed, her diaper bag is packed, and we are just waiting. Which is, as Tom Petty has long ago established, the hardest part.