This past week I finally crossed into the final home stretch of my sixth pregnancy. It's always such a relief to make it to the viable-if-there's-a-problem stage and then supremely depressing to realize that there are still three more months before I can sleep on my stomach, wear normal clothes (well, more than three months for that one), or climb a flight of stairs without almost passing out. Three months is such a very long time.
But, my feelings on the length of pregnancies aside, things continue to go very well for both me and baby William. He is a very active baby, holding dance parties almost constantly and kicking his father in the back while his father is trying to sleep. I am tired and grouchy, but that's pretty standard for most six month pregnant ladies. I finally had to pull out the maternity clothes, but that was going to happen at some point.
The children and I will leave for North Carolina the day after Christmas to stay with my parents for three months. They are all excited about the prospect of spending time at the house with the pond and legos. Eleanor likes telling me just about every day how we are going to fly on an airplane and go visit grandma and grandpa's house. Edwin is looking forward to visiting his favorite museum where the dinosaur bones are kept. I am looking forward to driving my parents' Odyssey for three months (thanks, Mom and Dad!)
So things are going just fine. In a good pregnancy, it's mostly just nine months of waiting around for the baby to show up, and that's what this pregnancy has been. Which is a blessing that I'm not going to complain about.