35 Weeks
Dear baby girl,
I can't believe we've made it this far-- 5 more weeks, or, if you really want to make me freak out, 35 more days, until your due date. Combine that ridiculously short period of time with my unrelenting feeling that you're making your arrival even earlier and all I can say is holy Crap. Notice the capital "C". Also, it's bolded and underlined for extra emphasis. That's how you know I mean business.
As always, I'm not going to sugarcoat things for you. This past week has been Rough. Notice how the "R" is not only capitalized, bolded, and underlined, but it's also italicized. That's how you know I mean serious business.
It all started Saturday when I discovered that suitcases I had been keeping in storage with all of my pre-pregnancy clothes and tons of shoes were soaking wet and covered in a thick layer of mold thanks to a leak in the storage unit. Oh, and a ton of books too. About 40 books we had bought for you to start your library collection, and a ton of mine as well including some of my favorites as well as cookbooks daddy and I got as wedding presents. I know this is just stuff, I do. But, superficial or not, I love my stuff. Knowing this, daddy kept commenting on how proud he was of me for not having a nervous breakdown. Truthfully, it's all due to my mama who was an absolute angel. She dropped everything she had to do and spent the whole day sorting through the piles of moldy things with me, laundering and hand-washing those things that had hope of being saved. I hope I can be a mama like that to you.
I woke up Sunday convinced it would have to be a better day. And it was. Slightly. All that happened was that Ryder pulled me really hard as I was walking him. Seeing as I'm a bit off balance these days, I fell over and sprained my ankle pretty bad. And then I limped home. Good times.
Monday I woke up with it feeling worse, so I called my doctor who suggested heading in to urgent care. I limped to my car only to discover it had been broken into overnight. Then I spent from 10:00 am- 5:00 pm in the waiting room in urgent care. Right in between that one dude who was loudly smacking his gum and the other dude that smelled like ass. There, I said it.
Tuesday I found two more moldy suitcases full of stuff I had somehow missed on Saturday.
That, my sweet girl, was my week. I told you I meant serious business.
But every time I felt down on my luck, lamenting how unfortunate I was (and, I won't lie, those times were many), I thought of you growing in my belly, of how lucky I am to get to hold you in my arms so soon. Holy Crap so soon. And while that didn't take away my Rough week, it certainly made it easier to bear. And for that I thank you.
Love,
Mama
