I distinctly remember the moment I conceived my first son—it was a cozy December evening, right under the Christmas tree. I had just persuaded my then-husband that starting a family wouldn’t happen overnight, but I felt that time was slipping away. We both envisioned having multiple children, so we decided to give it a shot.
To our surprise, just one attempt and I was pregnant. When I visited my OBGYN, I was thrilled to hear my due date was set for September 6th. Excitement swelled as I began planning for our new arrival.
In the early months, I indulged in countless snacks, embraced the hormonal changes, and eagerly anticipated the moment we would learn the sex of our baby. Once we found out we were having a boy, I went on a shopping spree for striped outfits, Converse shoes, and plenty of plush toys—essential items for any newborn.
I painted the nursery, set up the crib, and after my baby shower, I washed all the tiny clothes, feeling overwhelmingly grateful. As my belly and breasts expanded, I reveled in wearing maternity clothes and proudly sharing my due date with anyone who asked. My vision was clear: I would have my baby, tidy up the house, and get everything ready for fall.
But as the days turned into weeks and my due date passed, I began to feel the pressure. Initially, I thought a few days of waiting was manageable. Then the calls started pouring in. Friends and family wanted updates, and I quickly found myself ignoring my phone.
I embraced junk food as a way to cope with the endless waiting. I also dealt with the not-so-glamorous side of late pregnancy: sneezing, coughing, and even laughing sometimes led to a little accident. I tried every trick in the book—spicy foods, long walks, and even calling my husband at work, begging him to help me expel this stubborn child.
By September 16, I was in tears, utterly uncomfortable. Nights were sleepless, filled with heartburn and the constant need to pee. I was even contemplating adult diapers! As fall’s chill set in, my frustration mounted. On September 18, I stepped outside in the nude, seeking relief from the unbearable heat my body radiated, not caring who saw me.
The truth is, being overdue is a unique kind of torment. All the advice from well-meaning friends and family seemed absurd; nothing worked. You’re left to simply wait, feeling like a ticking time bomb. I went from being eager to share my pregnancy journey to wanting to lash out at anyone who asked if I was having twins.
By September 19, nearly two weeks past my due date, I was at my breaking point. I took my morning stroll and firmly told my child it was time to make an exit. When I met with my doctor, I made it clear: I needed this baby out. Shortly thereafter, I found myself hooked up to Pitocin, and within moments, my water broke.
Pregnancy beyond the due date can be both mentally and physically exhausting. While it’s common for some women to experience this, the discomfort can be overwhelming. Doctors often recommend inducing labor in the 41st or 42nd week to ensure the health of both mother and baby. If your little one is still cozy in your womb, keep in mind that it’s okay to seek help and support during this challenging time.
Having experienced this, I can say it’s perfectly acceptable to use your overdue pregnancy as a card to play with your child later on. I still remind my 15-year-old son of the hell he put me through that last week, and he owes me big time!
For more details on home insemination, check out our guide on using the Cryobaby Home Insemination Kit. It’s a great resource that helps many navigate this journey. Also, consider reading up on IVF for additional insights into pregnancy.
In summary, being overdue is no picnic. It tests your patience and endurance while also heightening your emotions. However, it’s a phase that many women experience, and there are resources available to help you through it.
Keyphrase: Overdue pregnancy challenges
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