Beginning of The End

35
1/2
weeks.

Am I really almost done? Part of me can't believe this crazy journey of being pregnant is actually coming to an end. It's surreal. While most of me is so uncomfortable and tired and ready to not grow a human being any more, there is a tiny part (a rather big part tonight) of me that is sad to see the stage end. The stage of my sweet precious little boy, all nestled safe and sound inside of me. He is safe from everything in there. No one can tease him or make him feel less than he is. Nothing can damage his spirit, make him afraid. There are no scraped knees or elbows, no bloody noses, no tummy aches where he is right now. And I really think I will miss him when he's here. How, you ask? I just think that in the quiet moments in the night or early in the morning, or when I'm alone somewhere, I will miss his stubborn and deliberate movements inside me. Don't get me wrong, I am so ecstatic to meet this little man, to hold him, to gaze into his eyes that are half mine and half the man I love; I just don't want to forget the feeling of always being able to keep him safe. The feeling of anticipation, of wondering who he is, what his little nose will look like, if he'll have my feet or his daddy's, if he'll be as stubborn as me or as easy going as his father. But really, truly, I can't wait another second to have his wrinkled, warm, little red body in my arms, screaming to the world that he's arrived. I already have a feeling that he's going to be a real go-getter, that he'll be a wild little boy, and mostly, that I'll be so in love with him that my world will stop. I can't wait.

*Thanks to my sister in law Sarah for the amazing pics. Check out her site: mymatilda.com