Here I sit, like a hen on her egg, waiting for my little chick. My belly is so big, hard, and low that I look like I swallowed a bowling ball. It is impossible to keep it covered because it pushes my pants down and my shirt up, not really an attractive look for someone of my proportions. Other than the list of physical discomforts, I am so ready to meet my new son.
He is currently nameless, but loved none-the-less. It is funny. I feel like I love him so much already and we haven't even met. I have no worries about having enough room in my heart for him. He already has his place. I just wonder what he will look and act like. I have both extremes now and wonder will he bring a third. What would that even be?
I don't ever want to forget the way it feels to have a baby resting below my heart. I read that line in a book and loved it. Jr. is positioned entirely on the right side of my belly, sunny-side-up. I have felt so many kicks and pushes this time around. At one point he was moving so much I wondered if something was wrong with him. He is really slowing down now that space is getting tight. I will always remember his little foot rubbing against my seat belt while I drove to work. It was just a little nub sticking out of my side. I can't wait to hold those little feet in my hands.
Hopefully I won't have to wait much longer.
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