We're rounding the bend Munchkin. As of this Saturday you will be 38 weeks old, which means you could decide any day now that it's time to breath some fresh air, stretch your limbs, and turn daddy and I into your all abiding slaves.
People keep asking me if I'm anxious to get you out. The answer to that question is always "NO". I'm quite content with where you are. At least then I know where you are, that you are safe, fed, and quiet. Besides your room isn't done yet. It's close though! Really close! We just need to paint it, put together your furniture and bam! It's done. Wait till you see it. It's beautiful. Your daddy out did himself.
Part of me is scared. I'm not afraid of the labor, or the pain. I'm afraid of the unknown. I'm afraid of a still birth. I'm SO very afraid of that possibility. If my auntie Rose had never had one I'm sure it would barely be a whisper of a thought occupying my brain. But ever since I conceived you it's been a constant demon who tries desperately to haunt my daily thoughts. I always spit and growl at it, as it slinks back into the dark, dusty corners of my mind. But it stays there, ever awake, waiting for a week moment when it can come back to taunt me. But I hold on to the vision I had when I miscarried. A vision that I would have a beautiful, healthy baby and that keeps me from letting that demon out of it's dark corner.
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