The thing about due dates.

So. My American due date has come and gone without much fanfare. Or a baby. I celebrated by waddling over to the Jardin de Tuileries and lounging by the fountains for a while, then waddling (ever so slowly) over to the Marais for some spicy tacos at Candelaria. Neither the waddling nor the sauce piquante seemed to inspire le bébé to make an exit.

Which isn’t very surprising, because my French due date actually isn’t until August 7th. That’s right, French doctors give women a whole extra week of pregnancy. A whole week! So technically, this baby isn’t late yet. And could feasibly stay in there for another whole week after the 7th before anyone starts getting worried.

I have no idea why gestation times are longer here, but a friend said she thought it had something to do with averages – in America, your due date typically falls at a time when 50% of women will have already given birth, and 50% are still waiting. By the French due date, something like 90% of women will have popped that baby out, so it’s more like a final decree: you should have given birth by August 7th.

That theory could be absolutely inaccurate, but it certainly sounds plausible. I like to think that French doctors are just falling in line with the general way of life in France, where everything is longer– longer lunch breaks, longer vacations, longer lines at the post office. Of course you wouldn’t want to rush the birth process either.

Of course. Le sigh.