Weekend Update: 34 Down...

Holy guacamole folks. We're down to six weeks.

And
I'm
Huge:



For some reason, six weeks seems so much sooner than seven. As Reece put it, we could conceivably make plans six weeks in advance without writing them down. Well, maybe he could. I am still functioning by endless list-making. Brush Teeth: Check. Put on Clothes: Check. Right Foot in Front of Left: Check.

I have officially reached the point of no return in this pregnancy, meaning if I were to go into labor now, my doctor wouldn't stop me. If she WERE to be born tomorrow, she would likely just need a short stay in the neonatal nursery to be perfectly fine. Insert sigh of relief here.

This week, Baby Girl weighs around 4.75 pounds (just your average cantaloupe). She's almost 18 inches long, which would explain why I can no longer breathe. Her fat layers (which are hopefully abundant) are filling out, and her fabulous baby skin is smoother than ever. Oh how I long to kiss that baby skin!

The dreaded fatigue from the first trimester is once again rearing its ugly head. I'm not sleeping much, due to the basketball that currently resides in my middle section. The toes, feet and ankles are completely bloated on a daily basis, and have become a major talking point as of late. There are some perks though. Reece is so freaked out by the delicately named "elephant feet" that he is more than willing to massage them nightly to get the freakish swelling down. I mentioned the nesting insanity that hit earlier in the week. I'm hoping its a passing phase, because my lower back is still suffering the consequences of my short-lived stint as a Mayflower mover. But guess what? I get to bring home a BABY in six weeks! That thought alone makes everything else beyond worth it.

I am getting so excited to meet my little girl.

And since it happens to be Father's Day, I need to mention my little girl's daddy. I am so grateful to be married to this guy:



He does it all, and then some.
He puts up with my whining and endless demands.
He cleans out the litter box, even though it makes him gag.
He talks to our daughter every morning and night.

And most importantly, he is going to be an incredible father to our kids.
Baby and I are two very lucky girls.

(Additional props go to our amazing fathers, Mark and Tony. We couldn't ask for better grandfathers for our baby)

And on that note, peace out.