|Do you see the little hand? Look at those tiny bones.|
This week has been horrible...we chose a cemetery. Your daddy and I are exhausted. Last night we stayed up (too late) talking about how life will never be the same once you are born...about how there is no going back, even if we are blessed with another baby down the road, that child will never be you. And they you started kicking again, to remind us that you are still here and aren't gone yet. Yet. It is the yet that is killing me...the trying to squeezing joy out of the daily because who knows if it will be your last. Brad said it best, your labor will be the winding of the clock and we never know when the time will be out. The last doctor's visit went ok. She noticed that I was starting to measure a bit larger, probably a build up of fluid...polyhydramnios (common with babies like you)...the beginning of the end. But I'm not in labor today. Nor was I yesterday, or the day before that. We have had 30 weeks, 210+ days, of enjoying you. 30 weeks of being a little family of four. 30 weeks of dreaming of you, saying your name, feeling you roll in my belly. They say you are probably around 15 inches long and 3 lbs...give or take a bit. Hard to imagine you were just a speck of cells in September. Well my boy, what do you say, are you up for another week? Another week of loves, chocolate milk and tomato soup? I'm in.
Loving you always,
Mama & Daddy