Stick A Fork In Me

Last night was the labor portion of our birthing class. As an introduction, we had to say who we were, our doctor and an adjective describing how we felt.

Mine was DONE. Husband agreed...he's done too. This adjective meant more things than one. I'm done with being pregnant. I'm done with having kids and husband is done with me complaining. My list of complaints right now is far too long to blog about.

Now don't get me wrong. I think pregnancy is a beautiful thing. I consider myself extremely lucky to experience this miracle..I mean think about it, I'm growing a HUMAN. I can't even grow a plant. But I'm growing a human that will breathe and think and walk all on its own. She will even go onto being President of the United States one day. Just throwing the high expectations out now....

And while I love that we women get this super amazing gift...I'm just done.

I'm 33 weeks today. I have 7 more to go until my due date. This is considering she didn't get the eviction notice. She has about 30 days to make an appearance or else.

It's strange though...I was taking a shower earlier and it really came to me that I'm getting close to the end. I can see the finish line. The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. If only she would drop a little, then I would finally be able to breathe.

I think more than anything, more than being done with being pregnant. I'm really anticipating holding my little girl. I'm done holding her in my belly...I'm ready to hold her in my arms.