Done.

I spoke too soon. I WAS feeling pretty good last week, but right on Easter Sunday, I decided that I am done. Finished. I can't believe I have 7-10 weeks ahead of me. How will I ever survive?? That is a LIFETIME!!

The good news is that I have my dearest old friend sugar to get me through it. No gestational diabetes!

With Liam, I remember hitting my two walls at 27 and 29 weeks. This time, it started at 23, but I hit that distinct "I'm done" point at 30. 7 months. Right on track! I forgot to knock on my faux-wood desk when I was typing out that last post about feeling great.

I'm waddling. I'm swelling (a new fun thing to deal with is swelling + hot weather. My fingers get a little plumper in the summer anyway, so now I just look like I have a bunch of sausages sticking out the ends of my hands). I'm hot. My hands and feet are sweaty. I have reflux, which is preferable to the taste of antacids. I'm BIG (and people have no problem telling me as much). I'm big, and I have two whole months to get even bigger. I am going to have a panus down to my ankles when this is all over.

But - keeping it in stride (and just telling myself everything that I can't for the life of me make myself believe), once it's over, it's over. I'll get Pregnancy Envy again, no matter how often I read this post. I'll only remember these non-existent moments where I erroneously think I said to myself "I LOVE pregnancy!" and I'll want to do it all over again but won't. You do have to understand that 7-10 weeks in the mind of a pregnant woman is an absolute eternity, and there is absolutely nothing that you can say to convince her otherwise. But - when I try really hard with all my might to put it into non-pregnant terms, it is crazy to know that only 7-10 weeks separate me from my daughter. WOW.

That's all I got in me for right now. I just wanted to give all my faithful readers a heads-up that I'll be whining and complaining from here on out :P