I went to the OB today. Really nothing to report, except I have to go back in two weeks. TWO WEEKS!? This being my third go-round, you would think I wouldn't be shocked, but I thought I had at least another month before I started my more frequent visits. And this being my third go-round, I almost feel like I should get a free pass to skip a few appointments. I mean, my cervix DOES NOT open, my blood pressure stays constant, I don't start peeing protein. Yes, my weight will keep multiplying and that's going to be about it. If I start getting puffy or stop getting kicked in the bladder every three seconds, I'll call, okay? Just kidding. I will go every two weeks. And then every week. And two months from TODAY, we can discuss my scheduled C-section. I can set it up for anytime after October 16th. Crazy.
I'm still not thinking about the future too much, and just plowing on ahead and letting life take me where I'm going to go anyway. I am concerned about not having a car big enough to hold all of us, and wondering if Zar is going to have to run out and buy a van so Lily and I can be discharged legally, but beyond that I have no plans, expectations, or "feelings" about what is going to happen. Which was the same with Charlotte. If there is something I need to know, I know God will let me know as He has a hundred times before. Oh I am keeping the preemie sized jamies out, and pulling out my nursing supplies when I come across them, but that's it. I have another ultrasound next week and that will probably be our last peek before the big day.
Having the annual Newport trip over is strange, as it's leaving me wondering what next year could look like. We went from one baby beach girl last year to FOUR this year, and next year could be five, or more, or back to four, and Ava could be walking! Remember when the years seemed soooo long and yet nothing seemed to change from one to the next? Like when you were like eight?
When did I become 30? (close enough. I'm owning it.)