By the end of this month I will be four months along. This is a time in my life when months have never felt longer. Yesterday I got out of bed and looked at the short list of goals I hoped to accomplish this week. Then I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
All my other chicks hatched a month early, so I'm guessing there will be only four more months after this one. I repeat the months in my mind over and over again. It doesn't sound so far away when you count on your fingers from May through August. I just need to limp through April and then I only have May through August. The baby will come in early September, if it arrives as early as the others. I sincerely hope it does.
And then I'll be mother to four children. Most days four sounds like a lot.
My body is groaning, not this again. My husband agrees we're never doing this again. But we want this baby, we asked for this, and so I lie in bed thinking about the number four. It's a good number for us. These days it's pretty much the only number I can count to.