41 weeks 4 days

Well it's all fizzled out again. 3 days until my induction appointment. (Which I am unsure whether I will still go to or not). Right now I am taking one day at a time. My home birth dates ranged from 10th April til 12th May. And being the 13th May I will most likely have an argument on my hands now whenever baby decides to arrive (if he ever does).

Right now, I am still confident that a home birth is right for me, despite being over that threshold. But I am taking it one day at a time, and if I suddenly feel that hospital would be the right place, then I will go there.

I am getting tired. Robert had his nursery trip today, so while he was there, Jonathan (who has taken his 2 weeks off from today because I am not coping well emotionally or physically with the demands of this very late stage of pregnancy) and I took Christopher to a country park. After a short play in the playground, we went for a walk. It wasn't a long one but I ached, with every single step I took. My back, my hips, my legs, my feet. I was plodding along with a heavy body, and a heavy heart, and did not enjoy the walk at all. We have been on walks every weekend day for the last few weeks, and I have enjoyed them. But not today's.

I did not sleep well last night. A combination between the now consistent pain on rolling over in bed, and indistinguishable worries running around in my head. I have given up hope now that he will be born soon. Yet another false start and I feel broken, I don't trust myself to read my body's signals. I don't want to get my hopes up again. My heart aches whenever I see the new baby clothes I've bought for him. The empty cot, the car seat in the corner of the room. The newborn in the pram on the nursery run (who is almost 6 weeks old and was due only 2.5 weeks before my bump). The photos on my newsfeed on Facebook showing newborns.

People say "just think about when he's here and all the lovely newborn snuggles you will have". But it feels like I won't ever be there. That he will never be here. That I will never get those newborn snuggles. Which is irrational I know because he can't stay in forever. But I cannot visualise him actually being here, as every time I do, it ends in disappointment. And other people saying (which I am now interpreting as a "shut up your moaning now woman") "think of all the women who never get to where you are, who have premature babies and feel like their bodies have failed by not cooking long enough".

I realise I'm not the first (and won't be the last) woman to go so past dates (hey, I was 12 days late, as my mum likes to remind me). So on that note I'll sign off, and this will be my last moan. Because I won't believe he's actually coming now until I'm actually pushing him out.