I must say, my due date has felt so close for much of this pregnancy, mostly because the idea/reality of having an actual baby in our house is so intense that it happening in any amount of months feels like it’s tomorrow. I simply cannot put that feeling into words.

Now, we are just 11 weeks away, and I oscillate between feeling like this is happening tomorrow and like this is happening a year from now. Intellectually, it’s like “holy @*!% only 11 more weeks of life as a twosome; only 11 more weeks to finish this gigantic list of to-do’s; only 11 more weeks until I can no longer spend 45 minutes smelling soaps and candles at Whole Foods; only 11 more weeks of getting 10 hours of sleep every night….I think I need a little more time!” But, physically—and that’s the part of me that’s getting difficult to ignore—it’s like “OH. MY. GOD. 11 more weeks of being pregnant?! But, I am stretched out as far as I think I can be. I’ve been carrying this baby around for what, like 2 years now, right? But, I don’t want to grow any more chins…I’m overwhelmed by the number I currently have. I’ve already had to buy 3 sets of bra sizes and you’re telling me these puppies are going to grow 2 more times?! But, I miss not wearing a bra. Do you know what it feels like to be literally punched in the bladder? This baby is going to double or maybe triple in size in the next 11 weeks….how will I ever keep my urine in?”

These dueling mentalities are accompanied by bouts of me holding my belly and tearing up because I can’t handle the love I feel for this little being…and I simply cannot wait to snuggle her.

Oh, the waiting game.