so we are 33 weeks today.
and tonight it becomes 2009.
i am feeling a little anxious about this year and all the changes it will bring.
for the rest of my life i will be thinking about this year...in a good way. maybe it will make up for 2008 when i lost my grandma - maybe my grandma will find her way into making this first year with my daughter a spectacular one. there are signs of her all over pj's nursery. her picture on the wall, books my grandma read me, butterflies above pj as she sleeps, and her first tutu in her closet. i know she is here...i know how much she would love to see pj...so i am certain she is finding her way into our new year.
as for greg and i, we are gearing up for the "change" ahead. her bedroom is a calming place for both of us, with clothes that smell like baby hung in her closet according to month...baskets filled with toys, blankets, diapers, etc., books on her shelf and socks in her drawers.
i am still wondering the same things though...what will she look like, will she want to be breastfed, how the hell will i get her out of me, will my water break during a school mass...you know, the normal things that keep me up at night even though i am completely exhausted.
for right now, the kicks are getting more painful as she has found my ribs and has discovered how to kick them over and over...and while i am moving more like a penguin, i am moving slightly faster than i was last week when all i could feel was a painful stretching across my belly.
signs of pregnancy bliss : not only can i not tie my own shoes or put the orange juice back correctly, but i also am starting to not fit in restaurant booths - there is too little space for my belly (which shoots straight out) to fit comfortably - and i get cramped up and leave in pain.
oh and i waddled into the post office and some lady coming out said to me "whoa, you look like you are about to burst" "when are you due" - and for shear pleasure i felt like saying "in 5 months" just to make her feel bad...but i told her the truth.
man i am too nice.
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