– 1:14 pm

I left the shower and came down to seven missed calls from your mother and a text, “Yo, I need to talk to you”. I just got off the phone with her. She has news hot off the press. You have outgrown her womb your home and are currently too big for it. So you need to come out this week, whether you want to or not. Dr Erskine has you booked to be induced on Sunday unless you play ball and come out willingly, with your hands in the air. You are currently surrounded, with nowhere else to go. And as part of the negotiations, you need to free your hostage and make sure no one is hurt in the process.

I’m cool with all the above. In fact, I much rather prefer a scheduled release birth than dealing with the unpredictability of when, how and being in the dark. But this way, we can drive to the hospital on Sunday morning and follow a plan of sorts. (Apparently, nothing about births go to plan. I wonder why they even bother with those birth plans). That’s assuming you choose the hard way out.

Your mother is on her way back now, in an Uber. She was going to take public transport but the checkup with Erskine was too painful. I am also too far out to drive to her. Her latest message says she’s having cramps again and if they persist she may just stay in Central. I’m assuming she means the hospital. By now she’s probably thinking, “I need to call my parents, book their flights, get a bunch of shit ready…” Or maybe I’m projecting and it’s my mind racing. I think I’m cool though. I feel settled. Everything is in place, nearly. But it’ll be fine.