I’ve had my last prenatal checkup. Worked my last day until June. Had maternity pics taken. Knocked out almost all of the last-minute to-dos. Five days from now, I will hold my son in my arms.
I find I am no less excited, or scared, than I was last time. I had not expected that.
While I will miss sharing space with my little zen guy, I am looking forward to being able to reach my feet again. And I am sure he will be far more comfortable when he can stretch out a bit more.
It’s not new, but nor is it completely familiar. And there is an added air of sadness. This is one of the last days Anya will be an only child. One of the last times I will feel a baby move in my belly. The last Friday night for a long while that it will be just us girls. We are embarking on a new stage in our lives, and it is exciting and terrifying. I am hopeful, but also (already) wistful for these moments I will never get back.
And hormonal as hell, in case you’d not noticed.
I may not be great about updating for a while, but I will be back. Hopefully before June.