We've hit that point in the pregnancy (as I did the first go round) where I start to get ridiculously antsy wondering if the baby is a girl or a boy. Not antsy enough to actually find out, of course, but I watch the 20 week ultrasound over and over, pausing in each frame that sweeps past the bum in any way, as though I really know what to look for. I'm seriously so excited.
And I think I've hit that point where I'm actually excited for Annabelle too. (Instead of just feeling guilty that my attention will soon be split.) Brother or sister, she'll get to know the kind of love and friendship that I know with my sisters. And it's something really unlike any other relationship she'll have in her life. Vital relationships, ones that will save her repeatedly, ones that she'll be able to count on no matter what. Who else will stay up til midnight with you eating cake right off the platter? Or maybe a carton of ice cream?
I think she's actually a little excited too. She talks about the baby that is "growing up" inside Mommy and how she'll love and hug and kiss the baby. She asks me regularly if today is the day I go to the doctor to get the baby out. (Mommy go to doctor? Get baby?) I started prepping her about a month ago in the hopes that it would help her when I suddenly disappeared for two days. As it turns out, we started prepping a little too soon because she's continually wondering when I'm going to get outta here and get that baby out of me already.
And so the countdown begins. Will it be Mommy and her girls? Or will it be a Mommy and one of each.
Seriously. Dying. So excited to find out.