Anytime, now

I went to see the doctor yesterday and he told me not to come back. He said he will continue to tell me this for the rest of my pregnancy. In other words, the baby is done cooking. He can come out any time. I know, because he is his father's son, that he is perfectly content in there, relaxing, while I do the work. Everything in my body is being pushed up my throat, so it is time for him to let it go and get ready to show up. Really, anytime is OK. There are only 4 days left of September, so he should be getting ready to pop out and say hello. The day we hit the due date, I will probably lose my mind.
The report at the Dr. was as follows. No progress, aka no dilation, I was negative for Strep B, which means no antibiotics while I deliver, so that is cool. Other than that, poop. Nothing to report except we are scheduled for an ultrasound on the 5th, followed by my appointment. At that point I will be 39 weeks and 1 day. I will be begging for mercy and to schedule some sort of induction, too. I can go another week. No big deal. The not knowing part is tough, though. Sitting here, wondering if he may decide to do something more dramatic and show up at an inopportune moment makes one hesitant to go do much of anything that wouldn't be considered necessary. Now, I know that a good majority of women never have their water break until they are already waiting to deliver at the hospital. There is always that other group, though, and being out in public with a massive flood falling from my pants scares me just a little. It is hard enough to not pee your pants at this point, but adding insult to injury with a flood that might not go unnoticed by anyone in the area is a pretty unhappy thought. I mean, what do you even say if that happens? I have come up with a lot of clever responses to embarrassing situations in my life, but that one leaves me high and dry. My initial thought is that I would run to the nearest door, hoping that no one spots me, while some poor teenage kid has to get out a mop and do a cleanup in aisle 4. Would I have the moxie to tell someone that there was a puddle in need of a mop? I am thinking no. Putting my head down and waddling away as quickly as possible seem to be the only viable solutions I can come up with.
And to that point, I know you can have "contractions" for weeks before things really get going. I am now at the point where I can't tell the Dr. if I am having anything because I have cramps and lower back pain off and on, but certainly nothing that I would say was strong or frequent enough to require medical attention or even much discussion.
For example, this morning Mr. W was a little alarmed because I was having some pretty bad chest pains on the left side. I noticed after shifting my body around a little that they went away. "Please do not have a heart attack" he says to me. OK, I will do my best. Instead, the big bundle of joy repositioned himself and now the pain is in the right side of my lower back. I think, from this point on, there will always be pain. If I can keep it away from my vital organs I may be able to prevent any alarm and continue about my days without much drama. From what I can tell, that pain has 2 arms and 2 legs and a healthy size little butt and head that require their own space and they are getting a little cramped. Lucky me that my body seems to be so good at carrying a baby that I will just keep going and going like the energizer bunny until every millimeter of space is used up and my small intestines start to protrude from my nose.