Broden isn't though. With 37 weeks and 2 days down, I am officially full term. Although as of Wednesday I am only 1cm dilated and 0% effaced. I told the doc that was fine so long as she could assure me that I wasn't going to be having a 20 lb. boy, and she did. Whew! He has assumed the position: head down with butt and feet up against the bottom of my left rib cage. The way he pushes down on me you'd think he would come flying out, but my body just isn't ready to let him go.
At the rate my swelling is going, I might end up looking like the Michelin Tire Man by go time. How hot is that?! I'll lay down for hours to get the swelling down, and if I decide to get up to put my drinking glass in the dishwasher, my feet are balloons again by the time I get back to the couch. I swear, they could float away with me.
I still don't think Kyle is fully prepared for what he is about to experience any day now. Sometimes little comments are made that make me laugh on the inside and think to myself: man, this is going to be a crack up. I'm fully tempted to bring the video camera into the delivery room. Not to record the birth of Broden, but to document Kyle during the birth of Broden. Vada has already started having second thoughts about being in the room while I'm squeezing out her little brother. "Mom, I don't think I want to be in the room any more. I might cry or throw up. Cry because I don't want to see you hurting, and throw up because it's going to look disgusting." I'm waiting for a similar statement to come rolling out of Kyle's mouth at any moment.