I am 37 weeks pregnant today.  For any of you not up to speed on pregnancy dating, on this magic day I am considered to have reached “full term.”  The baby could, in theory, come any time, and no time — not even an hour from now — would be at all too soon for me.  Unfortunately, I suspect that “any time” will not be for days or weeks yet, and while I’m happy to have reached this stage, it brings its own special kind of torture.  I know from experience that from here on out my every waking moment will be consumed with the expectation that labor will start imminently.  My bag is packed, the infant seat is installed in the car, and I’m completely ready to go (sidenote:  it’s amazing how little you think you need to be ready for number four, as compared to number one), even if the babe isn’t yet.  I guess the only thing to do now is relax and hope that our agendas match up sooner rather than later.