Though I sincerely don't want to be induced, I realized tonight that scheduling-wise [for Andrew's leave time, eye surgery, etc] that it would be best to schedule Ellie's birth for October 12th. Meaning that, at the LATEST, I'll have a daughter on October 13th... And, check your calendars, people! That's AT LATEST 17 days from now! AT LATEST. Ahhhhh! There IS an end in sight!
Now that I've picked a date, though, I am starting to reflect on the past 38 weeks... My dear, beautiful, sweet daughter was a complete surprise and came into my life at a crazy time... Though I'm pro-choice, I knew that I'd have her, no matter how crazy my already crazy life ended up crazily being. :) I cried hysterically. I called my Mom. I texted my best friends- two of which were ALSO pregnant. I threw the pregnancy test at Andrew. I puked. By then, it was 6am and I hadn't slept. I think I took a nap? Then I decided that she was my child, I would raise her, and eventually decided that maybe everything DOES happen for a reason. And now that I am minutes/hours/days/a few weeks from actually holding the absolute joy of my life, I am humbled. Why she chose ME to be HER Mom, I'll never know. Why my birth control failed... Why on January 14th... Why a daughter...
More importantly, why does she LOVE lemonade and chocolate pudding? Why does she kick most in the morning, especially when I'm such a grump before 9am? Why has she practically forced me to listen to country music at any/all times?
Ellie Brooke, you are my mystery girl and I'll always be amazed by you and your timing. And I'll always kiss your chubby cheeks, read you Pickle books, and wonder how I could get so lucky.
That said, come OUT. Thanks.
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