Back in November or December, when we first consulted with our current midwifery practice, they had mentioned possible induction at 37 weeks in a subsequent pregnancy. Without realizing it, I grabbed on to that as my saving grace. Somehow surviving to 37 weeks seemed much more manageable than any other option. However, once I became pregnant, I never actually looked at the calendar to figure out the date.
So at my appointment this morning, I brought it up again just to discuss where I was mentally. As we were talking, C (the midwife) got out her calendar and looked at it. Her face just fell and she reached out and put her hand on my leg. "Ashleigh, I don't think you are going to want to do that." She showed me the calendar.
37 weeks falls on July 30. The same day Owen was born.
How could I have missed that? I know in the grand scheme of things, its probably not as big a deal as I am making it out to be, but it feels like one more blow from a universe that appears not to be on my side at all.