Today, I enthusiastically drop the "1" from my mental countdown. I have 99 days left.
|I made this 99-link paper chain as a visual representation of my countdown. I need to find somewhere to hang it. (And look at my beautiful new hardwood floors!)|
I love this number. It feels exactly right for where I am at this moment. It's the perfect amount of time to get the nursery finished (okay started and finished), as well as buy whatever else we still need to buy for our baby—and if I could somehow skip ahead to April 2nd, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I absolutely wouldn't.
As much as I can't wait to hold this little miracle in my arms—to feel his skin against mine and to hear his first healthy cry—I haven't gotten tired of carrying him around in my belly just yet. I need 99 more days of feeling him move in there, thriving and so full of life. I need 99 more days of wondering, "Can he feel that?" or "Can he hear this?" I need 99 more days of Danny holding my ever-growing bump as we fall asleep, smiling at every kick and flutter; 99 more days of Danny kissing my belly hello and goodbye; and of him pulling me close, pressing his cheek against my stomach, and saying, "I love you so much."
Anything longer than 99 days, though, would be overwhelming at this point. I feel like I've been waiting for this baby for a lifetime, and even though I often catch myself saying that I can't wait to meet him... I can. For about 99 days.