I was born on the 13th and JC was born on Friday the 13th at 13.21, in room 13 after 13 hours of labour and placed in cot number 13. When I transferred to the ward, I was in bed number 13. Coincidence?
When I found out I was pregnant I did the mad dash to the calendar to work out my due date (which was originally the 10th but was later changed to the 5th after my scan). Imagine my surprise when I realised that the month of September had a Friday the 13th. When my due date was moved to the 5th, I was slightly disappointed as I couldn't see me being that much overdue.
But here I am. Entering 41 weeks and Friday the 13th is eagerly approaching. We had a wee false alarm last night. We got a little excited as I was contracting all day at 20 mins apart but nothing came of it. We even double checked the bags before bed and asked my mother in law to keep JC overnight. I woke up this morning with a sense of disappointment and frustration. I was a day early with JC so I didn't have the build up of anticipation to the degree I have this time.
The problem is, the longer I have to think about it, the more I build up anxiety and nervous energy. I am trying to keep calm and positive and push my fears, both rational and irrational, out of my mind but that is getting increasingly harder by the day. I just hope that my superstitions are fulfilled and that by Friday I am holding my baby in my arms after a safe passage into the world.
Next post will be a birth story . . . I'll keep you posted!
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