Twelve little days until my due date. Unless pumpkin is 10 days late, like peanut was, and I’m looking at 22 days to go which is such a dark and depressing thought that I am refusing to go there right now.
Instead, I have been humming the 12 Days of Christmas all day and wondering what the comparable 12 days of pregnancy would be. As impractical as 11 pipers piping would be to my life right now, I could relate to eight maids a-milking.
Here’s my countdown of the last 12 days of pregnancy:
On the 12th day of pregnancy, my true love gave to me 12 bowls of ice cream;
On the 11th day of pregnancy, I will have 11 to-do lists;
On the 10th day of pregnancy, I will start 10 useless projects;
On the 9th day of pregnancy, I will give into 9 days of “Cars” viewing;
On the 8th day of pregnancy, I will be doing 8 loads of laundry;
On the 7th day of pregnancy, I will come up with 7 new name choices;
On the 6th day of pregnancy, the hubby will witness 6 mental breakdowns;
On the 5th day of pregnancy, I will be 5 centimeters!!! (I wish!)
On the 4th day of pregnancy, I will be up for 4 pees a night;
On the 3rd day of pregnancy, my mom will start calling 3 times a day;
On the 2nd day of pregnancy, I will only have 2 shirts that fit right;
On the 1st day of pregnancy, I am looking forward to…
A baby in a bassinet.
I’m definitely in the mentally challenging part of the pregnancy. The wishing an exam gives a glimmer of hope. The hoping a twinge is the start of something. The counting down to a day that doesn’t really mean anything. So far, nothing’s happening and I strangely feel physically less ready than I did a week ago. Which is frustrating. But typical.
Guess I’ll just sing my new little ditty and continue to nurture this little guy inside since he’ll be worth every minute of the wait. Better than four french hens, for sure.