Holy Crap.

At our last appointment, the doctor told Abby she's likely to deliver, "Within the next two weeks."

Then, today, he said she could pop any moment. My first response was:

Holy crap, holy crap, oh shit, oh F*#k.
Wait... No... yes, holy crap.
Ok, calm down, breath.
Ok, I'm doing better now, wait ... nope, oh crap, oh shit, holy crap.

But then I though about it, and we're pretty ready. She's very tired of being pregnant, and I'm ready to play nurse for a post-op patient, getting better everyday; instead of taking care of someone slowly declining and constantly finding new depths of discomfort.

At the appointment she had put on 4 pounds since last week. Then today, she had put on another 4 pounds. As far as we can tell, it's all gone to the babies. However, her rate of growth is amazing, it feels like I can see a difference just after being at work all day.





"Oh my goodness, You're radiant!"






But, she's holding on like a champ. A prize fighter, coming up from the lowly welterweights to fight for the heavyweight belt. (I'm not sure where boxing weight classes cut off, so I hopefully didn't say she started off fat.)