According to my baby's due date, there are 79 days left in this pregnancy... not that I have much confidence in due dates. If this little one is indeed a girl, I have hopes that she will decide to make her appearance earlier than her stubborn brothers made theirs.
Sometimes, when Joey tells his coworkers the ages of his children and that we are expecting another one, the response is this: "You do know what causes that, right?" I find that to be terribly offensive. We like our children. We want to be parents with little ones. We are thankful that we have been blessed with another child. It is not irresponsible or abnormal for a husband and a wife to have children. We have the means to provide for them, and we love our growing family.
A friend of mine gave birth to a baby boy last night. It made me weepy to think of the grace of God towards us, sinful people that we are. I can't help but be in awe of a new little life, knitted together by God in a mother's womb. I am so anxious to meet this little one, face to face.
I have felt so very different throughout this pregnancy. My biggest complaint with all of my pregnancies has been the health (or lack thereof) of my skin. It is intensely sensitive to lotions, weather, ingested foods, and anything that dares rub up against it. This time it is even worse than before. I am also battling a lot more fatigue, which is probably easily explained by the two children I spend my days chasing. Whatever the case, it's taking a lot of convincing to make my mind believe that there are still three-ish months left to go.
I am in awe of the miracle that's taking place inside of me. It never gets old.
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