It's now one week past my due date and Jeff has actually finished his frantic quest toward completion of his to do list, so the baby is now officially allowed to come on out. Essential things such as fixing a belt sander, rearranging the chest freezer and buying a stereo for the living room are all done. The anticipation of the agony which everyone assures me will be excruciating is not so fun, so I'd like to get that part over with. Every time I grunt my mom thinks I am going into labor and my Dad got so impatient that he left already. Each time the kids go off to school they hope a baby will be waiting for them at the end of the day. Each day that I walk into work still pregnant the coworkers who realize that they have lost the office pool regarding the baby's birthday sigh in disappointment.

Yesterday I had to go to the doctor to get a non-stress test to see if the baby still has enough fluid and is not too stressed out by staying in too long. I think it might have been the best doctor's appointment I have ever had. I got to sit in a comfy bed drinking cranberry juice while Jeff massaged my feet for 30 minutes and a monitor measured the baby's heart rate and if I was having any contractions. They say everything looked great, and that I had one small contraction that I couldn't even feel in 30 minutes. What does that mean? Absolutely nothing, except that they'll let me go on waiting for a bit longer.

They are threatening to induce me this weekend if nothing happens before then, which I don't want. We have received lots of "advice" about how to get the baby to want to come out. We still haven't tried most of them, including causing myself to have violent diarrhea or jumping on a pogo stick, but I may get desperate before the weekend. Here is the latest photo - a profile of the baby. Jeff and I were amazed at how human it looks.

Katie