It's true we have been having a good time. Eating cookies and chips for dinner. Procrastinating writing thank-you cards. Registering for Maternity Benefits. Crying over Life Network programming. Taking baths. Bidding on baby clothes on Ebay.
And I know we are going to look at each other a couple of weeks from now wistfully, and say: remember when my biggest complaint was shortness of breath and reduced mobility, and trunk-like ankles? But we were still able to talk on the phone, nap, and take baths?
And I will look down at my sore body parts, rub some lanolin cream on the ones producing food for you while icing the swolllen bits that formed a passageway for you, and then I will look at you and in my bleary, sore, sleepy, and bursting with love, and think: I am so glad you are finally here. But man, pregnancy was easy compared to this.
So here's the deal: I will enjoy the next few days. And I can't wait to meet you. And I will be patient. Just please make your way out by next weekend (no inductions, no crazy back labour) I will totally make it up to you in chocolate and comic books at the appropriate time. Promise.