Mama's log: I feel like I have a watermelon strapped to my front side. My balance is weird. I have to lean back to walk. I have to use some sort of leverage to get off the couch. Forget sitting on the floor. My back hurts. My hips hurt. Six long weeks left. Well, five actually, since we are doing the induction.
Our blood sugar issues are still being worked on. It's not nearly as bad as it was, so I'm feeling pretty good about it all. Adjustments have to be made to my dosage here and there to adjust for my shifting hormones. I'm learning to be a lot less paranoid and rigid and to kind of just go with the flow, here. I'm already learning how to be your mama!
We had our ultrasound and the technician said you were measuring around five pounds and four ounces. This is a completely normal size and I am thrilled about that. You are growing right on track and that means we're doing something right. Now, I know these things are notoriously wrong, but at least they didn't come back with "He's measuring nine pounds!!!" and then they would try to take you earlier than I want. So, if this is what it means to have to skip dessert (which, come on, I do UP TO A POINT. I am only human, kid. I like ice cream.), then I will do that to make sure you are a healthy guy. (Although, it's free cupcake weekend and I am not sure I can say no.)
Of course, we still couldn't get your heart measurements. Again, they assured me that everything looks perfect and normal, they just want the measurements for record keeping. This time, rather than your arms hiding the heart pictures, you were flipped backwards, with your face towards my spine. They may schedule another one because you are so stubborn. I never thought I would say this, but... I'm getting tired of the ultrasounds.
Oh, Sprout, we are all getting SO excited to meet you. It's not much longer and preparations are being made. Your nene has her plane ticket to come be with us at the hospital and your nana is making her own travel arrangements to be here to help us greet you. It's getting so close and, yet, it feels like an eternity before I get to kiss each and every toe and finger and your forehead and nose and knees. I'm trying to keep my excitement low-key, as to not make everyone around me lose their minds with my anxiety.
But I can't wait. I can't. I have this feeling that you are going to be THE most incredible boy ever.
Maybe that's because I'm your mama. Or maybe it's just because you coming into our lives has exceeded all expectations and made us (at least me, I shouldn't speak for your father, though I think I can) complete. You made us nervous. Scared. Panicked. But you also made us whole.
We are ready to have this family all together, all on the outside, all in love with the future. Our future.
The next five weeks really (REALLY) cannot get here fast enough. Though, I guess I should, in theory, finish cleaning up the house first.
All of my love,