I feel the beginning of the end. Marked by my shoes being much tighter than they were yesterday. My fingers a bit swollen, not so much different to look at, but they feel funny when bent into a fist. My heartburn actually seems to be a bit better, but that could be just a delusion. Apparently, my snoring continues the same.
Countdown is at less than a month. We're as ready as we can be considering that there's no way that we could possibly be ready for such a life-changing addition. I'm having daily talks with Squirmy (there's clearly no room left for kicking, so instead she wriggles and squirms) about when she can come out, when she can't, which days work better for my schedule or fit with my image of 'wouldn't that be a cool day to give birth because...'. Is she listening? If she is, does she have any kind of prenatal conceptual awareness of such things as 'April', 'May'? Does she know her days of the week? I'm not holding out much hope.
Now if only she will either come before or wait until after all the midwifes go on strike.