6 weeks. . .

Until my scheduled c-section.  Not that I'm counting down or anything.*

Six weeks from today, we will be spending our final day as a family of three.  Six weeks from tomorrow, at this time, I will be snuggling my baby girl.  Six weeks, one day, and two hours from now, we will probably be introducing Miles to his new sister for the first time.

To say I'm excited is an understatement.  But not just because of those newborn snuggles.

The truth is, I am so done being pregnant.  I ache, all.the.time.  I can walk about 50 feet before I get short of breath.  I can't sleep at night because Sam thinks night-time is the perfect time for a dance party.  I have near-constant heartburn, no matter what I eat.  I'm constantly hungry, but can only eat a tiny bit before I'm so full, I feel like I'm going to puke.  Grocery shopping on Monday resulted in a 2.5 hour nap, and I was still exhausted afterward.  I can't take Miles anywhere that requires much effort on my part, because I can't guarantee that I'm capable.

This is so different from my first pregnancy, when I was at the Festival, walking around the entire 16-acre site, and working until 3 days before Miles was born.  Sure, I moved slowly, but I could move.  With this little lady, any time I move, she objects.  Violently.  Miles moved constantly, but it was mostly kicking.  Samantha moves only occasionally, but when she does, she literally shakes my entire body with her flipping, rolling, and stretching.  In fact, I think I scared a newly-pregnant friend recently, as she watched my stomach bounce and wiggle.  She was sitting 3 feet away, and my shirt was covering the belly, but it was still quite evident.  I probably should have been nicer and not told her that this was pretty typical for that time of the evening.  Or that it was fairly mild compared to some nights.  She managed a smile and a laugh, but for just a moment, I'm pretty sure I saw pure terror in her eyes.  Whoops.

But, I digress.

I'm trying to remember that this time is fleeting.  That all of this means I have a strong, healthy baby coming.  That I'm almost at the end.  I'm trying to remember that some moms never make it this far, and many have worries far beyond my petty whining.

Mostly, though, I just count down the hours until I'm done being pregnant.

*43 days.