Andrew and I went to visit our midwife on Thursday and found out I am 2cm dilated & 70% effaced, which was a pleasant surprise. However, ever since hearing this news and facing the reality of how I could now have the baby "any day, anytime, anywhere, anyhow (insert vague any-word here)." I've just become more and more impatient (naturally).

Evonne Lack really sums up my feelings in her post called Waiting for labour to start is like...

"Okay, then. Waiting for labor is like waiting to get sick. You know you’re going to feel bad – you can feel the first pricklings of that virus – but you don’t know how bad it will be, or when it will start. 

NO! That’s ridiculous. Being sick doesn’t yield a reward, like labor does. It doesn’t change your life. It’s not transcendent. It’s just crappy. As is this analogy.

Waiting for labor is like waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s like waiting for a surprise visit from another planet. It’s like waiting for the universe to shift.

No, no, and no. 

There’s nothing to compare it to. The experience is so full of sparring emotions that it’s impossible to come up with something just as strange, and infuriating, and annoying, and tiring, and other-worldly, and exciting. Impossible."

In my next post I am sure I'll have forgotten all my impatience and will be marveling at how cute our new little Hodgson is, insisting you feel the same way. For now, wish me luck in my waiting.