Here we are then – deadline time. We learned from having Sam,
though, that babies are not carriage clocks – they don’t operate
to time.

Sam was 16 days late and this one appears not about to want to come
out and see the world either.

I go off to work and wonder whether this will be the day. My office
phone takes on a fascination all of its own as I stare at it with a
mixture of anxiety and anticipation. The nature of my job means that
it rings regularly and each time I sense that I leap towards it as if
I am a fireman answering a 999 call.

On the odd occasion it is Maria but, after a quick: “it’s
OK, nothing’s happening”, she proceeds just to engage in small
talk. Relief and frustration all mixed together – a curious mix.

She is keeping busy – seeing friends and family. We agree that it
is important to still be active even when it’s so difficult to get
around.

The other key event of the week is Maria’s appointment with a
registrar at the hospital. She is given a clean bill of health and,
apparently after a bit of head scratching, the doctor decrees that she
should come in 10 days after the due date – unless anything happens
before then.

Birth can’t be imminent then, she muses… I remind her that the
baby will decide when it’s time (I’m an expert of course).

Everything is in a state of almost suspended animation – we don’t
know what to do, should we just ‘twiddle our thumbs’ and wait or
should we try to encourage the baby to move? There is no right answer
– although I sense that Maria is reaching the end of her patience.