26 days

We are 26 days out (ish) from meeting our son.

How insane is that?

I keep having dreams that he's here. He's bundled up in my arms and I am in love in a completely new way.

Then I wake up with heartburn and hip pain and an inner debate about whether it's worth it to get up yet a 5th time to pee (it always is). So, with all the grace of an on-land walrus and no small amount of huffing and puffing, I perform an impressive 6 part series of movements designed to get myself out of bed. I then limp to the bathroom thinking mildly bitter thoughts.

Patience has never been my strong suit, especially when uncomfortable-ness is involved. But we'll get there!

My belly is this ever-shifting array of joints and kicks these days, much to my amusement (Justin's still grossed out) . . . though it often seems that little man is trying to kick his way out of my side.

Baby is doing great and barring a packed bag, we're pretty much ready for him to arrive. Well, after I finish launching the 3 websites I'm due to launch in the next 10 days before I go on leave. (Things are going well, but wow am I logging some epic hours in front of the screen!)

I just found out my doc will be out of town on vacation the week of my due date (so much for asking her if she'd be around during the holidays at my first appointment). I'm trying to convince baby to join us a little early, but we'll see.

Soon. Either way, soon! Can't wait.