10 things to do on your due date

1. Wake up in the middle of the night with hiccups. Lots of them.

The hiccups in question weren't mine, but the baby's in utero. Furious hiccups that made my whole belly vibrate. That must be some strong diaphragm already. Very. Weird. Sensation.

2. Serve freshly-baked scones for breakfast.

Served with raspberry jam and a generous amount of clotted cream. Make mental note to look up right way to assemble scone. Devonians put cream first, then jam, Cornish people the other way round. In terms of presentation I favour the Cornish way.

3. Think about going swimming to swim off scones.

Think again. Too tired. Besides, my very sexy maternity tankini is still in the laundry from last Sunday.

4. Giggle at remembering my nephew's comment.

Last Sunday after swimming, Jonny and I ran into my brother and his son. Who later reported to my mum that my belly was HUGE, but that I went swimming anyway. I just couldn't go off the slide or the diving board anymore. It would have caused too much of a splash.

5. Consider having hair and nails done. Again.

It has been two weeks since I had a haircut. And also two weeks since my last pedicure. Not that long really. It's just that you never know when you get another chance any time soon.

6. Shop and stock up. Then stock up again because you ate everything you’ve already purchased.

How much money and time do I have to spend on food for once the baby gets here? Everything I bought is either halfway gone or has already disappeared. I need to get some strawberry jam for more scones. And a green pepper for the fish casserole we are having for dinner tonight.

7. Have a nap after being shattered from getting two food items.

Or before. Or both. Decide on both.

8. Give birth.

Sounds obvious, but apparently only 5% of babies turn up on their due date. 80% arrive late, and 10% go two weeks over. So far we don't seem to have a good track-record with low odds, so chances that our girl will make her appearance today are quite slim.

9. And yet. Scrutinize. Every. Twinge.

There are absolutely no signs that labour is imminent. Our baby girl must be very comfy in there. No Hollywood scenarios of my waters breaking. No contractions. No losing the plug. Maybe just the plot. From growing increasingly bored.

10. Bottle up boredom to use at later date.

It's calm before the storm, I realise. :-)