It seems that I'm running out of new things to talk about now. There were so many things going on in the beginning: adjusting to the idea of being pregnant again, coping with early pregnancy symptoms, watching for the first physical signs as my belly just barely began to grow, getting that first ultrasound, hearing that first heartbeat, feeling those first movements.
Now, I can even feel you from the outside sometimes, though not with enough regularity yet to be able to call your father over in time. My stomach is not doing perfectly, but is almost back to normal, my energy levels are still pretty low, but at this point it's hard to say how much of that is from a simple lack of sleep (thanks, little Michael).
And now I'm simply watching, and waiting, and entering that seemingly unavoidable stage of intermittent impatience and anxiety about the end-goal. The more I think about you and what you might be like, the more I want to finally meet you. At the same time, my memory of how much easier it was (comparatively) to care for your brother while he was still "on the inside" keeps me from really actually wanting you here in a hurry.
And that's a good thing, because we still have many more months to go, holidays to celebrate, trips to make. There will be Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day... And then, just before Easter, and both closer and farther away than I could possibly perceive just this moment, will come your entrance into this world. However ready or unready I still am at that point, it will be beautiful, and amazing.