Well, top of the “list of things I’ve been wrong about in this pregnancy” seems to be my apparently faulty instinct that Bob would arrive early.

After a veritable contractions-and-mucus-plug-fest at 37 weeks I was absolutely convinced I’d be meeting my baby soon – only for everything to die down and go completely quiet again. I’m now in limbo, with no niggles beyond some regular bladder-bouncing and rib-kicking by young Bob, and no signs that any labours will be kicking off any time soon.

I’m now having to face the hideous prospect that I could quite easily go past my due date on Sunday, which is not something I’d given much thought to previously.

And yes, yes, before anybody brings it up – I know Bob will come when he’s ready, and there’s nothing I can do to speed things up. But oh good grief am I fed up with the waiting!

I saw my midwife on Monday for my 39 week check-up. All seems to be well, which is great news – blood pressure still great, as are my bump measurements and Bob’s heartbeat. Seemingly the baby’s head is so far down in my pelvis that it can’t be felt any more – which pretty much confirms that I could go at any time.

So my task for the next week is to somehow figure out how to get a good night’s sleep in amongst all the rumbly baby movements, the hourly pee trips and the acid reflux. Also, trying to keep myself occupied during the day so I can’t just sit about the house and dwell miserably on the fact that I’ve not had this baby yet.

My last remaining hope for this week is that tonight’s full moon will do its thing and tip me over the edge. Seemingly some old wives believe that labour wards tend to be freakishly busy during a full moon as women due around that time are likely to coincide with the big cheese appearing in the sky. Whatever – I’ll believe anything at this stage! The thought of being able to bend freely from the waist after 9 months is quite intoxicating… 

Come on Bob – your time is most definitely up. Rent-a-womb want their property back!