I want this baby out of me. I know, I know… every woman gets to this point. Yes, my body hurts. No, I can’t hardly walk. No, I can’t tie my own shoes – seriously. Yes, my nursery is ready.
We’re Ready. But that’s not (completely) why I want him out of me. I want to hold my baby. I want to see what my baby looks like. I want to experience nursing him. I want to wrap him in the blankies I’ve made. I want to see what kind of personality he has and how it compares to Keith and I. That’s a lot of wants… kind of a tantrum!
I’ve been waiting for this for what seems like 20 years. I would have only been 14 years old then, so it’s not actually been that long.. but still. I’ve literally prayed for my children since I was 16. Yes, actually prayed. I didn’t just think or hope for them. I prayed for them at that age. So now that I’m down to the wire… 5 DAYS TO GO… I’m getting impatient.
I guess I’ll go clean the bathroom… again.