…I was very pregnant and very ready to be done.
Piggie was born at 38 weeks, so I was expecting my second baby to come around the same time. I don’t know why. Why I set myself up for such disappointment. I mean…babies come when they come. They don’t all come at the same time just because they come from the same mother.
But I was so ready for my body to not be pregnant anymore. I was breastfeeding Piggie through that pregnancy and I had developed nursing aversions. It was the equivalent to nails going down a chalkboard every time he nursed. Lord have mercy, that was pure torture! Unfortunately, the nursing aversions continued after pregnancy, so in the end it didn’t matter that Dacky took so long to make his arrival.
Anyway, enough doom and gloom! Dacky decided to teach me a lesson in patience and came at 41 weeks. I remember waking up every night to go pee and hoping to feel some contractions, and messaging with another pregnant and very due friend. We’d ask each other if there was any activity to report while on our pee breaks!
It’s so crazy now to look back and find those last few weeks so magical and special. Those late night texts with my friend, the constant anticipation of contractions, of a new baby about to arrive and change my life forever.
I know it’s hard to believe…but they all come out sooner or later! I know all of those mamas out there right now in the final weeks of pregnancy don’t feel that way. They’re worried that they might just be pregnant forever. Hang in there, my friends, and keep fightin the good fight! You’re almost done.
And my baby is almost a year old…excuse me while I go ugly cry!