We've made it to the big 3-0 week and are out of scalding water. Now we just need to get to 34 weeks to be out of hot water and then 36 weeks to be out of warm water.
But I can't think in those terms. I can only think days. Right now, I'm thinking "Press on to week 33 because Doc is going out of town for week 32." Short goals. That's all I can handle because when I think in terms of 4 or 6 more weeks, I feel dizzy and contemplate how to perform my own c-section.
I'm still measuring 8 weeks ahead and am done bending over, sitting on the floor, standing for more than 2 minutes, sleeping at night, eating without massive reflux pain, and other normal activities. I can, however, sit on the couch.
Talent, friends. Pure talent.
The Girl is getting a little anxious about the impending delivery. She asks lots of hospital questions and daily tells me she doesn't ever want me to leave her. I don't think she remembers much about Buster Boy's delivery, but she vividly remembers her own hospital stay when she was wrecked with dehydration from a virus. And Sweetness doesn't want me to be as miserable as she was: needles, lots of strangers in and out, away from at least one parent for a few days, etc.
I've tried to reassure her of how fun it will be to have the 2 babies there and we'll all get to visit. And I conveniently leave out the part of how I'll be staying there and she won't, but she's got it all figured out. She's smart like that.
So for now we keep it light. She's made me tissue paper flower arrangements to take with us to the hospital and she wanted Panda Bear washed so he would be ready to accompany too. And, of course, she's wanting to pack her own bag to go along with mine. I just tell her we have to leave hers empty in case she wants to take a trip somewhere before the babies come.
So far so good.