It's here. Those last 4 weeks of pregnancy that I just. can't. stand. The waiting, the wondering, the mental preparation, the intense physical limitations. It's so hard to surrender to what will be, and trust that it's what's best.
There's also that annoying thing that happens at the end where you notice trials from first trimester wiggle their way back in and make it hard. Needing the exact right food or you may puke. Crying at the drop of a hat. Hunger attacks.
Didn't I already overcome all of that?!
Enter the heroic husband.
He took the boys to the bike trail and their smiles were as long as the trail...
He let them run and release pent-up winter energy.
He has cleaned the entire kitchen after dinner twice this week, which is usually my job.
He prepared the bathroom for putting in new lighting and cupboards, which was no small task.
He cleaned out the garage and got us ready for playing outside and porch sitting in a few weeks.
He has refilled my giant water cup more times than I can count. It may not seem like a huge deal, but when you're carrying 40 extra pounds and they are mostly in the front of your body and you can't bend, it's really nice not to get up over and over.
In the meantime, I did whatever I wanted, which was mostly eat the right food so I wouldn't feel sick, but hey...mission accomplished. The newest boy in our family is growing well. He's measuring a week ahead. Here's hoping he comes a week early to compensate!
Thanks, husband, for being the family glue when I can't be.
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