On your marks... get set...

I'm just not ready yet. Now, I know what you'll say - you're never truly ready for something to change your life so completely. I totally get that, and I really do agree. I have absolutely no idea how my life will be changed in just a matter of days, and to be completely honest, I am really okay with that. The current plan, if you can call it a plan since there are still some unknowns, is I have my biophysical profile and growth ultrasound tomorrow (that is, if the sonographer actually DOES the growth u/s... new sonographer last week simply forgot after two reminders - grrr), then another week of the same routine (Tuesday - doctors appointment and exam, Friday - biophysical profile), and then, in the words of my doctor from Tuesday, "we'll make plans for delivering you." When you put it that way... holy crap! All of this, of course, is predicated on the current path that I do not go into labor on my own between now and, oh say, a week and a half, give or take a few days.

So.. am I ready? Great question, and I honestly do not really know the answer. I hear from many pregnant women do right around now that they just cannot wait for the baby to arrive. They're uncomfortable, they're in pain, they are antsy to meet this new little person - I don't begrudge them their reasons. I'm just not where they are. The monkey has been super active lately, proving wrong all of the thousands of baby/pregnancy-related emails who caution that in the last few weeks of pregnancy, the baby doesn't move much due to a lack of available space. Every time I think about her impending arrival into this world, I get a little sad. I won't say that I'm one who has LOVED pregnancy - to be honest, I simply haven't minded it much. I don't love attention, and there is nothing that gets you more attention, more comments, more inquiries, than having a giant belly precede you into any room. But feeling this little being moving within? Feeling the nudges, the bumps, the kicks, the flutters... nothing has been more magical or amazing to me. So while others might declare their excitement over setting "eviction dates" for their little ones (a term that I cannot help but think slightly inappropriate or weird), knowing that I will have this particular type of experience for only a short while longer makes me a little sad. It's obviously bittersweet, since it will be replaced by a whole new experience and sense of intimacy, but since this is the only one I know so far, allow me to get a little teary.

We won't even get into whether or not we have enough gear/bottles/diapers/wipes/anything!