I kept trying not to anticipate my third "37 week baby." But then, when 37 weeks came, I suddenly found myself just "soooo pregnant."
"Oh man, I think this is the week," I'd say while penguin-walking around the apartment.
And then, 38 weeks:
"Whoa. Seriously guys, this girl is coming this week. A mom just knows these things (wink, wink)," I'd say while penguin-walking-with-an-elephant-on-my-back.
And now, here we are, past the 39 week mark. What can I say? I threw off the penguin and the elephant and put on a wee bit of determination. I think I have walked, stretched, moved more this week than the last three weeks combined.
So, 39 weeks is cool.
My greatest earthly gifts have taken such grand care of me. I was even delivered breakfast in bed this morning. We are all so eager to find out our little girlie's birthday. We're still smiling, knowing God already picked out the perfect day for her. Maybe today is that day, but I'm not going to jump to any conclusions.