Getting close?

Today I am two days away from my due date. A certain someone who shares my DNA was born two days before his due date. So clearly today ought to be the day. But so far, no dice.

Things have been rough in the Langford household lately. Milo spent the better part of the week sick. Throwing up and feeling extra sleepy (except at night, obviously). Good for cuddles, not good for our stress levels. I've had a cold, and so has Andrew, but we have avoided the stomach bug, it seems. I've spent more than one evening in absolute misery, crying while every single part of my body ached. Convinced that I could not be pregnant another night.

Every night I'm up multiple times for bathroom trips and leg cramps. Oh my god, the leg cramps. After the months of nausea and vomiting, they're my least favorite part of pregnancy. "Get your sleep now," random people say. Shut it, I think. I'd much rather be awake nursing a baby several times a night than up peeing and whimpering in leg-cramp pain several times a night.

Today is my last day at work. That's for the best, as I am completely unable to focus for more than five minutes at a time. I cannot tell you how many times I've had the same conversation at work. It goes something like this:
Other person: You still here?
Me: Yep, still here.
Other person: When are you due?
Me: Sunday.
Other person: Oh wow, so soon!
Me: I know, any day now!

It's really happening, though. Hard as it is to believe, I will go into labor at some point and end up with a baby. A baby girl, my daughter. I will soon be a mommy of two, and my son will be a big brother—the oldest child rather than the only child. I'll see my husband turn into a father all over again, and I'll fall in love with him all over again.

Soon. Very soon.