Still no news

Emotions increasingly irrational, desperate need to have everywhere clean and tidy -- a feat in itself with these energy levels, the inability to lift weights and bend over and a messy hubby -- and growing clumsiness.
I know billions of people have gone before me: peering into this great unknown and survived the jump, but I am scared. Natural, I suppose and I know the tiredness, the sleepless nights, the smelly nappies, the sore body parts and the lack of a life for the immediate future will all be worth it, but it's just something I need to get off my chest. Yes, I am selfish...I am sorry. Yes, I am excited, but I am tired and hormonal. I know it's not really the end of an era, but the beginning of a much, much better one.
You'll gather from this the Bean hasn't made a grand entrance just yet. Five days to go until D-day and if I don't go into labour today or early tomorrow, I'm going to sit with my legs crossed as Malton maternity ward is closed from Thursday 5pm until Monday 8.30 am and the alternative is scary Scarborough -- a one hour drive over horrible tractor and caravan-infested predominately one-carriage way roads -- where the hospital is huge and a visit last week really put the fear into me (even if they do have a birthing pools, which hopefully will be free).
So, while I do the crossed leg thing, please do the crossed finger thing, so we can all end up with monumental cramp.
This is proving quite cathartic...apologies for sounding like a miserable, moaning moo...I really have no excuse. Mid-wife appointment tomorrow and we'll see if Bean is any more engaged than last week, where the head was one-fifth down....I've been walking and eating curry, which is supposed to bring on labour, but no such luck yet.
Thumb twiddling aside, at least the grass grows quickly here, so fast in fact that you practically can see it grow.
Love to you all.
Han
xxx