Every day that passes feels like a day that I wasn’t sure would ever get here, and I couldn’t be more thankful. I had a great appointment this morning. My cervix is still long and closed. My doctor offered to continue the weekly scans until I get to 28 weeks, but I told her I only want two more. I couldn’t believe it, just because who turns down an ultrasound, and am I really confident enough that I’m okay with that? Of course, that doesn’t mean that I won’t totally panic in two weeks and call them crying and begging to come in. We’ll see.
The little dude looked great again this morning. He was sleeping with an arm up over his head and his other hand in his wide-open mouth, which is how we usually find him. He’s active on a pretty set schedule and has turned out to be a wonderful poke-punch partner. I poke. He punches. Dave keeps telling me to leave him alone, but I can’t resist. It’s not like I’m poking hard.
In other news, my belly gets bigger every time I look in the mirror. I haven’t figured out how I’m going to put shoes on as I get further along because it’s already requiring a lot of effort (and flexibility that I don’t seem to have anymore).
Ah, such wonderful “problems” to have.