It is 2:40 pm. In a few hours, at 5, I will be at the exact same point I was when my water broke with Georgie.
This baby is not Georgie. This pregnancy is not his. Everything is going sooo much better than it was with him.
I woke up this morning with contractions and the general feeling that two feet were stuck in my ribs. I am pretty uncomfortable but so damned happy to STILL be pregnant that I will gladly suffer through 5, 6, 7, more weeks of this to take my baby HOME with me.
The contractions have gone away but the feet in my ribs have not. My newest little boy is moving and bouncing around and seems quite happy.
Today is Adam's birthday. We are both mourning the loss of Fancy, nervous about what the next week will bring and happy to be going out on a date tonight. Adrienne and Gary are bringing the cradle when they come over and we'll get everything ready for him. His little quilt is made up, waiting to be draped over his sleeping form.
It is weird being 35 weeks pregnant and having birthed, held and nursed and 35 week baby. Cheesie is still a moving and rolling bump but Georgie was a BABY. A hairy baby with a large head, horrible mili and tons of vernix but a baby. His little brother is a bump.
If I can carry Cheesie through spring break, I will have given him MORE lung maturity, more fat, more time than his brother had. If I can make it past 37+1 when I had Joseph, he will nurse even better than his oldest brother.
My side hurts. I can only sit up super straight. I get tired easily. And I will happily bear it all to keep my baby healthy. I will suffer FOR him, instead of him suffering in the NICU. I love him more than enough for that.