That flew by.
And while every day that our baby boy is not here seems to drag on like eternity and I convince myself that I might be pregnant clear until Christmas. The days keep passing and each day that we mark off on the chalk board blows my mind as we get closer and closer to holding our baby.
Oh the anxious anticipation.
Everyone is placing their bets. We had bets for the 13th, 14th, 16th, 17th (today! maybe he'll be here!), lots of bets for the 21st and 23rd, and for some reason I originally said the 30th (probably more realistic but it seems so far away!). Technically he might not be here until September. Though for some reason I just can't picture him as a September baby. He's on the cusp of Leo and Virgo. It's up to him.
I've heard people say, "oh he'll be here in the next few days," and I completely get my hopes up. And them I'm crushed a bit every time someone says, "you haven't dropped enough, you still have time." And for every doctors appointment that shows no big progress my heart sinks a little. I'm not quite at that breaking point of "GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" but I do want to meet him. I feel like he wants to meet us too. His kicks seem to say "I'm still in here but not for long!" to remind me just how much I love feeling them. And each time my belly tightens I feel like he's trying to tell me that it won't be too much more time before he makes his debut.
I'm trying to be patient.