pho phail

Oh heeeey! One day left until the official due date…the day on which less than 5% of women actually deliver (look it up).

Throughout my pregnancy, I airily exclaimed to anyone who’d listen that people place entirely too much importance on this somewhat arbitrary date, and the baby will come when she is good and ready. Of course, throughout my pregnancy, my pubic bone was not being ripped in half and all the organs housed in my torso had their own little happy space that was not invaded by a giant pulsating parasitic fetus. (Note to fetus: If you read this some day, dear child, I use the term “parasitic” in only the most affectionate sense).

So, while I understand I actually have very little likelihood of giving birth ON my due date, I’m still hoping with the passion of a thousand gallons of fiery Sriracha sauce that I will be one of the 5%.

Today, with the goal of arousing the baby’s swift evacuation from my battle-weary womb, I went for a long walk and then guzzled an extra large bowl of spicy pho. I had a few twinges of crampy pain, hardly worth mentioning, and my lazy, underachieving baby slept through the whole thing.

Tomorrow I’m upping my game: hill repeats, hot wings, tequila and rough sex.


19 thoughts on “pho phail

  1. Bwahaha! I salute you for even typing those four things together in one sentence at this stage of pregnancy (tequila etc). The afternoon before my water broke, I did squats and lunges, so now of course I swear that this is the secret.

  2. I’m very much looking forward to the no doubt tell-all review that you will put firth after the fetus arrives. I have decisions to make here, and I’m not buying that shit where people tell me it was a “lovely experience.”

  3. As God as my witness, I am GOING to work “spicy pho” into something dirty and innuendo-y.

    In order to make you laugh a lot and then give birth in a matter of seconds, I was going to try to find a clip of the SNL skit with a Very Pregnant Amy Poehler and Josh Brolin, where they’re making eyes at each other from across the bar while “I’m No Angel” plays… but it’s NOWHERE on the interwebs. So, watch this instead:

  4. I appreciate that even in your weakened, hostile and slightly delusional state, you have the strength to make a Hyperbole reference. Well played, Marie, well played. Oh, and good luck getting the fetus out. I’ll cross my fingers for some live-blogging (with video of course) tomorrow.

  5. Hahaha, after the last sentence, I am convinced you’re going to be one hell of an awesome mom. I sure hope that the parasite comes out soon! Now go do some squats and lunges like heather suggested 🙂

  6. As your only male reader, let me ask about pictures. LOL. No, never mind. I’ve been there. The next few days will suck and also be amazing. You’ll forget the suck, even you. Since you don’t check your emails anymore, I shipped some booze to you today. Hold that baby in til Friday and you’ll have a 90 minute at bedside after birth (assuming your husband is prepared to smuggle and keep cold).

  7. Huzzah, the crotch dropling is getting ready to make an appearance! If I run some hill repeats and drink a 1/2 bottle of tequila, do you think that will help move things along for you??

    God speed, internet friend.

  8. I love that you think the part of this blog post that will bother your (now present) baby is that you called her parasitic.

    I’ll give you one hint; I prefer to not imagine my antecedents getting down on some hill repeats & hot wings, but the rest of the sentence would just become a blur of tears.

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