I'm 31 weeks pregnant today. Only 9 weeks to go!
Typically, I go about 2 weeks overdue, but I'm really, really hoping that by some miracle I'll have the baby on my due date this time. Hubby's birthday is July 29th, Big Girl #2 turns 12 on the 30th, and I'm due on the 31st. Wouldn't that be so cute, to have their birthdays lined up like that? At the very least, it would be easy to decide when to take a week of vacation every summer.
And I have to admit, I'm anxious for this baby to come. I can hardly wait to hold this sweet little baby in my arms and marvel over this precious miracle. I'm looking forward to seeing my husband's eyes lit up with joy and pride, to hear my big girls ooh and ahh, and to see my little guy lean down and kiss his baby brother or sister on the head and say, "So cute." (I'm not sure how my little princess is going to act, but I'm hoping it's not the "Who is this intruder?" attitude...time will tell.)
As long as the next nine weeks will seem, I know it'll be gone in a snap. Time is the ultimate paragon of contradiction that way. It seems to take forever, but it's gone in the blink of an eye. In the meantime, I need to savor this time with the four I have and take each day as it comes. There's so much to do, but I've got a better chance of having my house in order if I take it one step at a time instead of my usual, frantic, last-minute rush.
The clock is already ticking...