3 weeks, 1 day
I remember counting days and weeks, always knowing just how big baby was and what vegetable it resembled. That was last time.
This time I haven’t been able to tell people how far along I have been or what the baby have weighed.
That is until now.
Tomorrow is 37 weeks. In other numbers – the countdown ones – that’s just 3 weeks to go. If our baby is born tomorrow it will be full-term, not a preemie. I am SO ready to not be pregnant anymore. I am the size of a whale, my clothes don’t fit and I can barely tie my shoes. Last time I was this pregnant it was summer, all I had to do in the morning was to throw on a dress and a pair of ballerinas. This time around I have to dress for the cold. I wear tights every single day and I am sick and tired of it – and of scratching my stomach all day long.
But it’s not just about not being pregnant anymore. I can’t wait to meet the baby. I can’t wait to find out if it’s a girl or a boy. I can’t wait for G’s life as a big sister to begin. And oddly enough I can’t wait to find out that newborns can do absolutely nothing but eat and cry (others would have written “eat, sleep and cry”, but given our past record with newborns and sleeping, I am leaving it out) and that I have to support its head for weeks (?), months (?).
All in all I can’t wait for another life to begin. The baby’s. Mine as a mother of two. Our’s as a family of four. It’s a life, it’s a human being, it’s my child. And it’s just around the corner…