Almost a year ago, I reblogged a post entitled “I Write to Stop Time.” It is in this spirit that I sit down to write tonight, one week the night before my daughter is born. One week. I want to stop time. I want to freeze it now.
Wee One just dropped this week, and while the rest of this pregnancy has been a breeze, I’m starting to have some of the difficulty that other women have. Not that that’s a good thing, but I know it stems from her growing strong! Go me for giving her a good environment to grow in!
When i feel her move, I like imagining what she looks like and what she’s experiencing. What does she think of the music she can hear? Can she feel my hand push on a spot or tickle her foot?
When my husband goes to Wendy’s, he always brings me a Frostie. Even when I don’t ask for one he brings me one, because he says he heard Wee One ask for it.
I’m feeling the Braxton-Hicks get stronger. (Not that this is a good thing, but wow!)
I’m crying at all the schmaltzy “mommy” things like I never did before. And I’m not even embarassed.
I”m getting things wrapped up at work to take my leave – I just decided tonight that it’s going to be sooner than I originally thought.
I’m less afraid of the idea of sacrificing things for her, and even looking forward to the trade off of her snuggles in exchange for something less pleasant.
I’m looking forward to the torrent of love I get to pour over her and wrap her in.
This is the best thing I never knew I wanted, and I don’t want it to pass too soon.
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