Overdue

For the two of you who have not called or e-mailed me in the last 24 hours, I am still pregnant. It's just as well because I had a ton of work I had to wrap up this week. That's made the week go really quickly, so it's a blessing in disguise. I celebrated my due date by having my annual review on Wednesday. No pressure. Lee thinks that my work involvement is keeping me from going into labor, but if the threat of an annual review doesn't throw you into labor, I don't know what will. I've decided that if she doesn't come next week, my absolute last day of work will be May 18. I was really hoping that it would be today, but who knows.

On Thursday, I was in the elevator on the way up to my office with a lady I'd never seen before. She turned to me and said, "When are you due?" Without trying to look bitter, I smiled and said "yesterday". Based on the look on this woman's face, I figured out that people you don't know do not want to hear that they are suspended 12 floors above the earth in a tiny steel box with a woman who is past her due date. They would rather hear that you have head lice or the bird flu. At least they'd have a chance to recover from that. If the elevator gets stuck, delivering some random girl's baby is not on their "Top 100" list of things to do. So from now on, I'm going to tell people I'm due "next week" to avoid mass hysteria.

That's all the news I have. My Branch Davidian baby remains holed up in her uterine compound. Ellie, here's a piece of advice for you - come out. I have never been a part of a standoff, but based on what I see on TV, they never end well for the person standing off. Most of the time they involve tear gas and a SWAT team; however, in your case, it will involve Pitocin and a team of doctors. So do yourself a favor, listen to the hostage negotiator (your father) and walk out of there peacefully because if you don't, we will come get you. Love, Mom.