Let me take you back, waaaay back, 107 days back, to be precise. What was happening 107 days ago? It was May 4th, my due date. And it seemed like nothing much was going on. Which was okay, because Jimmy was hitting the road and heading to Calgary for a playoff game. We were both nervous about him being gone, but we figured the odds of this baby coming on her due date were low. Which is why we are not statisticians, because it turns out the odds were pretty good.
But back to the story. We had decided Jimmy would go to the game, and should anything happen, he would only be three hours away by car. Jimmy spent the morning at work, then came home for lunch. I made him a delicious steak quesedilla, then waved from the back door as he drove off. The afternoon was spent doing important things, like napping and catching up on old episodes of Ellen on PVR. I got a text that afternoon from Mama Hughes, who does PR for Jimmy's team. I asked her to take special care of Jimmy that weekend, as he was anxious being away from me. Her response?
"Don't worry. This baby is a boy and will definitely be late!"
HA! Oh the foreshadowing!
So, I was napping and watching reruns, letting the time pass until I could meet up with my sisters-in-law and mother-in-law at a local craft fair. These ladies are serious craft show browsers. We go twice a year, and it often takes four or five hours to browse all of the always well made items, after which we have a late dinner out. I knew I would not last that long walking, and it was very likely in my whale like state that I would pass out long before the late dinner began, so I planned to give them a head start on their browsing. When they phoned to say two hours of browsing had passed with less than half of the wares seen, I decided to pass on the crafting and join my parents for dinner and then join the crafters for dessert. After some fortifying chicken fingers and ceasar salad, and one call from a nervous expectant father, I finally met up with the crafters. I had felt a couple of sharp kicks throughout the evening, but didn't think much of it. Jimmy called again just as I was getting in the car having finished a delicious chocolate sundae. I assured him nothing was going on and headed home to bed. Having locked the doors, gone to the bathroom for the millionth time, and said a prayer, I laid down, surrounded by the three million pillows required to support my girth for a comfortable night's sleep, when my water broke.
Cliff hanger, or what?