Well, today is the official due date. I swear everyone is looking at me like something magical is supposed to happen. A unicorn will appear, and declare it to be Cash's birthday, and then fireworks will come out of my vagina, and a dozen leprechauns will carry the dear child out on a bed of diamonds while fairies hand out ambrosia to everyone.
Or, I will sit here in misery from the heartburn and pee 1,289 times until my doctor's appointment at 4pm, where she will tell me my cervix is still closed up tighter than a clam and the baby is still not engaged and maybe we should look into induction next week.
Nothing magical about that.