31 weeks 2 days

I'm sitting the nursery rocker, doing some writing for grad school on this drizzly Presidents Day. My dog is lying on the carpet, her jowls spread out--my husband and I call this her mush face. I just, semi-insanely upon reflection, explained to my dog that the baby will be here soon and that she would love her very much, and that she'll be a person, not a dog.

Saturday morning my husband and I went out for coffee and bagels, and out of the blue, he told me that he couldn't wait--he wanted April to arrive, he wanted to meet our baby. While the sentiment isn't a surprise, it's rare that my husband (and I suspect most dudes) says that type of thing unprompted. So cute.

Physically, my legs, especially my thighs, feel as if they might give at any moment. I wake up each morning and waddle to the bathroom, my upper legs not bending. It's as if I had a killer night in the sack, but alas, no such luck. Sometimes my pillow configurations work; sometimes they don't. But I'm two days away from being two months away from my due date, so if my only worries are overstreched ligaments, I think that life is pretty good.

Back to my other writing, which is about infertility. Honestly, I haven't wanted to go there lately, but I'm committed to a piece.