The first time you go to the doctor after you realize you're pregnant, you pee in a cup and report the date of your last period so he can calculate your due date.
Turns out ours was wrong. Because the first time I went, I was given a date of February 24. After an ultrasound showing a large head and femur (????), the ultrasound tech moved our date to February 19. Both were wrong, because today is March 3 and I am still pregnant.
I went through a few weeks of being horribly depressed, crying all the time, wondering what on earth is wrong with my body that my baby is "late."
Turns out due dates are just suggestions, and it's better not to get your hopes set on suggestions, right? Because when I realized that my body is just doing what it's supposed to, and after attempting literally everything that has been successfully reported to naturally induce labor, this sweet baby girl just isn't quite ready to come.
People were shocked that I'm not going to induce. But Emmy is healthy. I am healthy. And we are just going to wait it out. And waiting is tough, but here I am, sticking it out for the long haul.