Eight Days

Little Ry Guy,

When are you coming? I'd really like to know.Please make it soon. I want to hold you. I want to kiss your little toes. I want to feel your little hand grasp my finger. I want to watch you sleep and see your little chest move up and down. I want to sing to you. I even want to hear your cry.

Your dad wants you here, too. He keeps begging for me to make you come (like I can really control it). He really wants to meet you.

We both love you already, Ryan. Please come join us soon.

Love,

Mommy

Do you see that? On my sidebar?

Eight days until my due date.

Basically though, he could come at anytime.

And I can't wait.

His pack n' play/bassinet has been sitting next to my bed for a couple of nights now. I get all giddy when I look at it and realize that my son will be sleeping in it so soon.

But I know I'm going to be exhausted.

I already am exhausted.

Thanks to a combination of 39 weeks of pregnancy, uncomfortable sleeping conditions, lots of contractions (still false labor..gah), the arizona summer heat, extra weight, and stairs.

So yesterday, I relaxed most of the day. And today I plan to do the same. Reading, napping, a little bit of homework, giving my puppy extra attention, and I'm gonna force Jess to cuddle up to a chick flick with me before bed.  I don't think he'll argue.

Perfection.