The word this week from Dr. M

"It could happen any day now. Get that suitcase packed."

More motivating words have never been spoken. Suitcase: packed. (Or rather, it will be packed as soon as Sean gets back from picking up a few last supplies tonight.  Suitcase: very close to packed!)

A glimpse into our suitcase:
More clothes than I probably need
An absolutely adorable newborn outfit, with hat, decorated with puppies; seems impossibly small
Microwave popcorn for Sean (because we want to drive everyone on the unit absolutely crazy in the way only the smell of popcorn can.  Other option considered: bacon.)
Sean's hat
Sock full of tennis balls for back massage (Hank: "I cannot believe that is not a toy for me.  It simply must be a toy for me.  You people are so misguided sometimes.")
Lip goop
A deck of cards (can anyone say, "most stressful game of Mao in the history of the world?")
Werther's Original hard candies
Make up.  Don't laugh.  It was on the Mayo Clinic Guide list.

And a bunch of other stuff, too.

I've got a bit of whiplash from this sudden change in my doctor's attitude (last week: "stay put, baby"; this week: "let's get that baby out NOW!)  As glad as I am and as much as I want to meet Walt sooner rather than later (me: "Is there ANYTHING I can do about this heartburn? I can't eat or sleep!" doc: "You can have the baby.") I'm still hoping for a couple more days at least.  Tomorrow is my last confirmation class before maternity leave.  Thursday is my last day in the office, and Thursday evening Sean and I are scheduled for a photo shoot featuring my enormous belly.  Saturday is our day-long birthing class (and I don't care what anyone says, I want that class! I need information, people.  I need methods and practices that I can then choose to ignore!)

Also, I'd like a quiet day or two to write thank you notes.

I know I'm on Walter time, though.  And that part isn't as scary as I thought it would be.  We'll be ready when he's ready.

What's keeping me up at night (other than the heartburn) is that we're so close, and I still can't believe we might actually get to have a baby.  I'm still afraid that we won't, that something will go terribly wrong. Praying helps, talking about it helps, but it's a nagging, persistent fear.

I live for the quiet moments I get with Walt, still moving around like a champ even though it's increasingly tight and crowded in there. I love the hiccups, the gentle elbowing, the not-so-gentle kicks to the ribs.  "See, Mom?" he seems to say, "I'm OK.  I'm your Scooter!"

Thank you for your ongoing prayers, love and support!  We'll try keep y'all posted and keep the posts coming in these coming days.  If you have a suggestion for the suitcase, please send it our way!