This marks the 36th week of pregnancy with baby Noah.
Oh yes-in case I never made it official on here, his name is going to be Noah Michael. Noah, because we both finally agreed on the name. And Michael, because that is my dad's middle name. That way both boys will have their grandfathers' middle names.
Naming him is about all I feel I have accomplished when it comes to preparing for this little one. The crib is still not put together in the garage. I have a pile of baby clothes to wash in the special detergent. His dresser is sitting in a box, not put together because I do not even have a room to put the dresser in.
The poor third child.
We are still deciding between dry-walling our loft to make a fourth bedroom or just putting Abby and Caleb together for a short time while Noah still gets up all night. Either way, a decision needs to be made and time is rapidly flying by.
Yet, here I sit, not panicking. Is my lack of preparing based on my complete exhaustion from the first two? Or is it because I know everything will eventually work out? My sweet friend across the street, due the day before me (with her first) has the nursery ready and everything bought in preparation for their little boy.
Let me stress again-crib in the garage, clothes not washed, dresser in box, no bedroom.
If it helps, little Noah, you are constantly on my mind. Not just because you keep me up all night with trips to the bathroom and heartburn. And not just because you have a way of kicking me really hard in the ribs. But, because I have been waiting for you for a long time and I am anxious to meet you. Your room and clothes may not be ready quite yet, but my heart is.