No signs of anything yet. Damn it all. Had contractions every 15 minutes through dinner last night with my mom, family, and Seymour's folks, which made me none too chatty or fun. But, as I warned Seymour they might, they ceased when we got home and I went to bed.
Then Scabby decided she needed to sit on my head and have a good scratch-fest at 2:30 A.M. No going back to bed for me after that--I was up until 5:30 or so (good opportunity to catch up on the DS9 TeeVO backlog and complete the Leelo's Day books which were supposed to go out, oh, a year ago).
Now I am extra low-energy. And feeling cumbersomely big. Every day this baby decides to stick around my interior is a day for him or her to put on weight and thus rip me farther asunder (big babies arriving quickly do not leave much time for such things as wonderful, wonderful stretching and tear-avoiding perineal massage). I want it out now!
But it is Thanksgiving. My OB told me that I was under no circumstances to have this baby today (which, because I am contrary, just raised any odds in that event's favor). My auntie (my mom's sister and JP's mother-in-law) is in town but needs to leave tomorrow. She wants to see the baby before she leaves, dammit. Seymour says that, for work reasons, Saturday or later would work best for him.
I still want it out now. My dear little Heetachi Magic Waand didn't do a damn thing. I wonder if a double-shot of caffeine would do the trick?
Regardless, happy Thanksgiving to any U.S. passers-by, and a pleasant day to the rest of you.