Yesterday, I had a breakdown. I cried like a silly fool because, for anyone who didn't yet receive the memo, I AM DONE BEING PREGNANT... even though all physiological signs would say otherwise. (ergo, the baby is still in my uterus.) My throat was also a little sore, as was my back, and I had one big fat self-pity party for about 3 minutes. Then, I went to Wal-Mart and bought travel size toiletries so that THIS time I won't have to wash my hair with the hospital hand soap. I also got 2 sets of pajamas so that I can wear something besides a hospital gown.. because, regardless of what Trip might say to the contrary, nobody but NOBODY wants to see my lily white bum.
I came home feeling somewhat better, as I also managed to get the car washed and vacuumed so I could install the infant car seat (which was necessary and good, since we would otherwise not be allowed to take the baby home from the hospital...) I got Jack into the house and up for his nap, and found a note on the fridge from the most spectacular husband in the history of the world. It made me cry, again... but this time it was happy tears.
SO, I'm going to take one very mushy moment to say.... Thanks, Baby. We will indeed get through this last mile together... just as we have the last 99 (999999999999999). I sometimes forget that, even though I'm the one with all the physical symptoms... you're "expecting", too. Thank you for seeing me through, and telling me I'm beautiful... even when my nose runs, or when you've heard about the state of my cervix for the thousandth time.
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