It's February 1st. This time last year I was huge pregnant and due. It's my sister's birthday today too. But last year at this time, I was sitting working puzzles with my mom. The electrician had hooked up a generator, there was a ton of snow, my mom was cooking sloppy joes and french fries, and I was doing my best to keep my spirits up. I was having lots of contractions, but no sign of baby. The snow melted, my parents returned home, and another week of waiting began. The dreaded, "I'm over due week." And technically, you are not "over due" until 42 weeks. But NO ONE I know acknowledges that or either doesn't know it. So I got lots of emails, phone calls, and fb messages. I basically become anti-social that last waiting week.
But rest-assured, babies always come. And she did. A week later. And in just one week, we will celebrate that magical day. The day she finally made her appearance. All 7 pounds 12 ounces of her.
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