sweet little mango

Anyone who has talked to me in the past week or so knows that I am ready for this kid to come out. For many reasons. I want to meet him, of course. I want to see what he looks like! Will his eyes be blue like mine? Will he have hair?

The other reason is that I am done being a incubator. Done. The kid is clearly running out of room, and it is taking its toll on my body. Pain is pretty much constant. My ligaments are loosening, my ribs are expanding, my skin is stretching. I am afraid to complain too much about this, though. I don't want the kid to think I am resentful or mad at him, or that I want him to come out for only selfish reasons (although they are a little bit selfish...). I feel that in complaining and I am complaining about him, when none of this is really his fault.

It's Josh's.

Anyway, I was talking to my mom about this and she made some good points. First, why would ANYone want to come out? He is all bundled up in there, warm and cozy. He has everything he needs. We even play with him in there. On cold winter mornings, it is pretty hard for me to get out of the down cocoon I manage to spin after Josh leaves for work. I guess I can empathize with the baby. But still! There is so much more out there than cold air and light! Like MEEPA!

She also said that the baby was like a fruit. He will only fall off the tree when he is ripened. Just like I wouldn't want to to tug and pull at a green mango to get it off the tree, I don't want the baby to come out before he is good and ripe and ready. I just a to wait, I guess. Wait and wait and wait.

And wait.