Pregnancy takes so long. Time creeps forward and everyone tells you how quickly it's going and they're delusional because time hasn't moved this slowly since secondary school maths on a Monday afternoon.
And then, suddenly, it's over.
Or pretty much over anyway. The next week or so may be the longest yet, but there's this weird anticipation hanging around. Life is going to change any moment now - so many hypotheticals are going to be proven true or false or insane. We're going to have to tell people his name. He's no longer going to be kicking my bladder or doing whatever it is he's been doing to my rib-cage. Life as we know it could literally change entirely right now.
Or now.
Or now.
(It didn't, but it could, and it will on one of these nows, one of these days)
Weird.
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