Tomorrow I will be 24 weeks. That's 6 months of being pregnant. Ish.
Yet, I still have 16 weeks to go. That's 4 more months of:
- waddling
- sore breasts
- weight gain
- worrying about exactly how big my tummy and boobs will get this time
- little punches of delight in the booty or bladder or belly button
- sweating and freezing within two minutes of each other
- cravings (real or made up so I can eat what I love, tee-hee)
- explaining exactly HOW much longer I have to our due date to complete strangers or not, who say I look like I'm ready to explode
- mostly full nights of sleep (for a while)
- just having one child to give all of my love to and to hold
- wondering if I could possibly love Owen as much as Caleb
- dreaming of what this (most likely) last baby will look like, how he'll love his brother, momma, and daddy, and how much I am looking forward to all things newborn related
Hey! who ever said pregnancy only lasts 9 months. Liars! :)
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