Your dad makes me breakfast in bed. We go on walks. I eat pineapple. I clean. I do bizarre dances to feel silly and fun again but also in hopes that they will make you want to come out. I take baths. I cry about ev-ry-thing. Instead of cry, I should say sob. I go to acupuncture. I have dozens of contractions that don't progress. I question how anyones armpits could smell as bad as mine do now. We drink milkshakes. I float in your grandpas cold hot tub. And on your first due date, we went to get "due date donuts."
Waiting has never felt this unique. After a difficult pregnancy, part of me wants it to end and for you to come out and join us, changing our world forever; and part of me feels calm and patient, though no one would guess that through the raging hormonal storm I regularly cast... Why wish for this to end, why wish for time to speed up? You will arrive when you know it's time. You are wiser than I.
xo
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