Thirty eight weeks along and my only real hardships are giant ankles, wicked heartburn, and the occasional inability to breath. I guess it sounds pretty bad until you consider the trade-off. I mean, you can't really expect that growing a human would be easy.
Leah is babysitting me this week, poor thing. She'll be hanging at the hizzy and keeping Murphy company while I finish my last week of work. I sure hope that Murph is relishing these last little bits of attention before the baby comes - he's always been the baby of the family and I'm not sure that he's prepared to share the spotlight with a little brother. On the same note, I'm not sure that Alex will be prepared for the lickin's he's going to get. From Murphy, that is (no need to call DHS). But in time, I'm sure the two of them will get along famously.
I have another doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon, and this will be the first where I will officially be "checked". I'm not sure what I hope to hear at this point. I'm afraid that any hint of progress will precede a frantic phone call to Timothy, insisting that he drive down immediately "just in case." Anyway, Leah will be accompanying me as the surrogate father figure, so hopefully she will be able to talk some sense into me if that is the case. I'll keep you all posted...
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I can't believe you are 38 weeks. This is really sneaking up on me! Oliver's best friend will possibly be born in 2 weeks. Holy cow. Hang in there for your last week of work - you can do it!
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