Today I am 22 weeks pregnant. 22! Over half way there! In 15 weeks I could possibly be holding my new smooshy baby (I tend to pop them out a little on the early side.) It just seems so crazy to me. Even though the baby has been VERY active, I still can’t believe I’m going to have a third baby. I feel like at any moment the doctor’s office could call and tell me this has all been some big prank. Ashton Kutcher will show up at the next ultrasound to tell me I’ve been Punk’d.
Mixed with the disbelief is anxiety. How am I going to do it? A preschooler, a toddler and a new baby. I’m really trying to slow down and remember that the chaos will not last forever. We’ll find a new routine/chaos to fall into.
But mostly I just can’t wait. No idea what we are naming her. Not sure where exactly she’ll sleep. I have no idea what we still need to be ‘ready’ for her. But I can’t wait to hold her, watch her newborn expressions, smell that sweet baby smell and even spend those quiet moments in the middle of the night when we’re both exhausted, but it’s just us two. Can. Not. Wait.