38 days left.

So in 38 days (hopefully) or less (more hopefully), I will be a mother. It is weird and scary to think about. For the past 8 months, I have had this little boy growing in my body, and as tiring and shitty as it has been at times, it has never really hit me that this will turn into something much bigger. My belly won't be growing forever. Those daily hiccups won't continue as 20 minute thumps in my stomach. I won't be getting kicked constantly through out the day. Soon I will have a little boy to hold and feed and soothe and worry about.
It has hit me before, but it has never really become a true reality. Maybe it won't. Maybe he will just be here and ready or not, I will figure it out. I am thrilled that I will get to spend most of the days alone with him as much as I wish that Mitch could be around, too. I'm sure after a few days of sleepless nights and restless days, I will be singing a different tune, but I feel incredibly blessed that I will be the center of my little boy's world, and him the center of mine.
And yet, 38 days feels like forever to wait. But how about 17? Not too long. In 17 days, I will be considered full term. And that means my butt will be trying everything I can to get labor started. However, I am sure I will be unsuccessful and Elliott will keep me waiting until July. But 38 days isn't that long, and he is well worth the wait.