Faith

Ok, just so we are straight here - this has come up twice now in the past week with different people.

I am almost 8 1/2 months pregnant. Not just over 7 - I am just over 8! People still think that because I have almost 2 months left that I am in my seventh month. Nope. I am 33+ weeks; that is over 8 months. See, a pregnancy, though typically described as 9 months is actually 40 weeks long - which, if you do the math, is 10 months.

So now that we are clear....

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Kiddo is getting needier and needier by the day. He is demanding cuddle time and play time and story time and snack time and they all must be attended by me, with me and with me as physically close to him as humanly possible. I cannot even get my coffee in me in the mornings before he is demanding my attention; and that is after a good 30 minute cuddle/play session in the bed (which I really do love, but this momma needs her coffee too!). And if he doesn't get it, he pulls this gut wrenching whiny crying thing like I broke his tiny fragile heart and I get so upset that I can't even function.

Because the reality is, my heart is breaking for him too. I can't stop thinking of how in a couple of short months, when Kiddo crawls into bed with me in the morning, most likely I will already be holding his baby brother. And when he tries to snuggle in close, there will be a baby attached to my breast. One will be in the way of the other more often than not, and any intrusion will most likely cause some sort of grief for somebody, more than likely Kiddo. And I hate that for him. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

And that is my biggest fear.

But this morning as we were cuddling in the bed and I smelled his hair and stroked his smooth skin, the thought came to me.

We will adjust.

We will adapt.

We will be ok.

I just have to have faith.

Until,
D :)