I was 13.5 months pregnant (actually, it was the day before my due date). I was miserable. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't eat.
Her feet were in my ribs. Her head was scrubbing against my pelvic bone. She could kick like a donkey.
She had hiccups.
I could grab a hand or foot if it pressed hard enough on my belly.
I knew she was ticklish.
I was 99.9% sure of the name we'd call her - but until now, we just called her "Sprout."
I had been completely ansty the entire week. I HAD things I HAD to get DONE before she CAME.
My brain was jell-o, sitting made me sweat. I wanted to sleep, and hadn't done so comfortably for 2 months. I worked my ass off - knowing in my heart of hearts that she wouldn't actually come on her due date. I left a couple small threads dangling when I signed off that evening.
Little did I know, it was my last full day pregnant - ever.
|Yes, my hair is wet - AND I was on my way out to dinner. Preggers can totally get away with that!|