Oh my goodness.

Little brother, this is officially your eviction notice. 

I swore up and down before I was pregnant this time that I would savor and enjoy our (probably) last pregnancy.  I had been so impatient and eager to meet Cole that I sort of rushed the last week or two of his pregnancy.  And, of course, now that I have first hand knowledge of how much easier babies are to take care IN the womb than OUT (slightly better sleeping, boobs still relatively normal, hormones not FREAKING OUT), I promised myself that I would not be in a hurry this time around to have my uterus vacated.

Well, I lied.  I'm eating my words. 

I'm sick and tired of being pregnant.  All done.  Finite. Of course, it might have something to do with the complete lack of appetite I've had the entire pregnancy.  The throwing up.  The incredible heartburn that no amount of Tums can tame.  The contractions that have been so mild but so irritating for a WEEK.  The hip and pelvic pain from my tilted uterus that is so severe I can hardly walk first thing in the morning. 

And, of course, the overwhelming excitement of I JUST CAN'T WAIT TO MEET our new little baby.

So, little sweetie pie...we are all so excited to see your sweet face.  Consider this your invitation to come sooner rather than later, ok?  Pretty please?