One month to spawn

One month from today, we will meet spawn.

Time feels like it is dragging by so very slowly, punctuated by big baby kicks.

I remember taking it one day at a time with Harper at this stage, thinking "if only I can keep this baby inside one more day, her chances will be so much better. "

(Little did I know prematurity would be the least of our concerns, in the end.)

Shea managed to somehow hit a button on our voicemail yesterday that resurrected old, saved messages. I listened to a message from the perinatologist about a CVS appointment, a little stunned.

"I can't believe that's still in there," I told Lou.

What's the big deal, he wanted to know,  it probably just didn't get deleted. It wasn't that long ago.

Not a message about spawn, I told him. Wrong doctor. That was a reminder about the CVS for Harper. From the day we got our first clue something might be wrong. October 2012. Still there. Lurking in the voicemail.

I wonder how many more emotional landmines I will run into between now and spawn's birth?