Sunday was August 2. Kind of a nothing day for most people, but for us it is THE DAY. The day the doctor told me in November would be the due date. It feels like a million years ago. “August second” had become like some fictional character in my life, that I dreamed of, but would never really be real.
Like an eight year old waiting for Christmas.
I’m sticking sort of close to our neighborhood this week. To avoid my fear of water breaking on the subway. And because I’m starting to hate stairs.
I’ve been wearing the same two dresses pretty much everyday. It’s pretty lame. So I got dressed on my due date in all non-maternity-but-can-squeeze-into clothes.
Necklace: Chapter Jewelry
Shoes: Target (Sam & Libby still doing it right)
And flippy nineties hair brought to you by me actually blowing out my hair (gasp) Friday.
OK. Ready to meet this baby and to wear real jeans again. (And to eat poached eggs and smoked salmon…)
Happy Monday to you, Lovlies.