Realization

We're pretty sure this baby isn't coming this year. Now that we've realized that, we can come to terms with it, and I think we'll actually be able to settle down and wait for him/her to arrive. (What's funny: I'm sure as soon as we do that, this kid'll show up.)

We were really hoping to meet him/her before the end of the New Year, but in the back of our minds, we knew that was probably an unrealistic expectation. Babies arrive when they want to (usually).

So . . . we're just sittin' here waiting.

My fankles are back to cankles now. I've been able to take care of that over the four-day weekend. They actually almost look like normal feet again.

We got to see Christopher briefly over the weekend. Hopefully we didn't cause him too much trouble with activities back at home (he had to leave in a bit of a rush Sunday 'cause he was expected back sooner than he expected to be back). I bet we seem so old and boring to him, but if we do, he sure hides it well. He's a good kid. We were glad he could sneak up here for a bit before this kid arrives.

I slept in today. It was glorious (minus the body parts that kept falling asleep on me due to my weight crushing them). I just got up a little bit ago, and now, I must go find food.

Dilly out.

Fankles (Viewer Discretion Advised)

It is decided. While Willis and I were eating lunch just now, we determined that I have moved from cankles to fankles.

Fankles are a few steps beyond cankles. (You know what cankles are, right?)

Just in case you don't know what cankles are, I'll paint a picture for you. (BTW, I didn't create these images. I totally just hacked them from somewhere else.)

 

I thought about taking a photo of my feet to share with you (and so that I could remember what they looked like in this state), and I fought with myself about it for awhile. Ultimately, I decided to take a photo because they truly are so freakish that it has to be published.


There they are. Yep. Fankelicious.

Oh, and the cotton is there to protect my ingrown toenail from itself.

It's probably a good thing I posted this after most of you would have eaten lunch.

Playing the Waiting Game

So, last night, this kid definitely messed with us. We legitimately thought that I was in early labor last night for more than an hour or two. I started having contractions that were about 35-45 seconds long and about five minutes apart. Plus, they were getting stronger each time. We were pretty pumped. After timing several of these, we decided we'd try to go to sleep to see if it progressed or not. I do remember feeling them quite a bit in the night (and waking up a little with them), but by morning, they had dissipated. Bummer.

The contractions were so interesting. They weren't at all as many women have described (from what I've read and heard). I felt my stomach tighten up, and I would feel a strong rush of blood up to the upper part of my body (my face, my ears, etc.). It was almost just like the "dropping" feeling that someone can get when going down a quick hill in the car or falling. Then, my stomach would get tighter and tighter as the contraction would continue. It never hurt or anything, but I did have to take deeper breaths (it was almost like I was walking briskly or something).

What's nuts: we were digging through all of our books and checking online to find out what "real labor symptoms" involve (even though we had read them all before—we still wanted to double-check), and believe it or not, I freaking had those "real labor symptoms."

Oh, we know so little. How is it that we still know so little about this process that's as old as time?
Anyway, I'll be doing the same activities as last night again this evening to see if I can make some progress. Something tells me that this baby will still come whenever it darn well pleases.

I'd just like to stop having elephant feet. They are really, really scary. I look down, and they are NOT my feet. I don't even really have ankles. (I still am having issues with the latest ingrown toenail. I have cotton wedged underneath it today. It's lovely.)

In other news, we totally drove the wrong car to work today. It's totally snowing hard here, and we didn't know that was going to happen. Whoops. I better not be in labor in a snow drift later.

Also, I'm saddened by the assassination of Benazir Bhutto in Pakistan. I've been reading up on this a bit this morning because when I heard about it last night, I realized I knew nothing of this woman, and the fact that she was a leader in an Islamic nation fascinates me. We watched a clip on Fox News last night from when they interviewed her in October of 2001, and she sounded brilliant. I can't believe I never knew of her existence until now. What a sad little bubble I live in (entirely my fault, I realize)!

39 of 40 Weeks

I'm moving onto week four (Sunday will mark week four) of this cold, by the way. It's still here. It's hanging on. It's the bain of my existence right now 'cause it's already so hard to breathe as it is minus the mucous. I shall name it The Cold from Hell (and I even took a Z-pack for crying out loud!).

I think I'm still having some serious Braxton Hicks action lately. I had a back ache that came and went yesterday that wouldn't go away no matter how I positioned myself. I also got really winded when that was going on whenever I got up to go to the bathroom and whatnot. It was pretty nuts.

I'm seriously tired, and I think the Braxton Hicks stuff is why. I'm not entirely sure about that, though, because I'm huge, and I have elephant feet. That might be part of it, too. I definitely feel different this week. I'm lacking in some serious energy, and I'm actually starting to have thoughts of, "Hurry up, kid!"

I was doing so well with the comfort level. The yoga is still helping, but it's getting harder to get up and DO the yoga. Plus, I missed my yoga on Monday due to holiday activities. I think that set me back a bit comfort-wise. I did it yesterday, though, and I felt immensely better.

I decided to forego socks this morning. I think my days of being able to put them on are over. Plus, I don't think any socks I own are actually going to fit my elephant feet at this point. It's a miracle I squeezed some shoes on today. (I'm actually not wearing any right now.) I very nearly wore flip flops.

When I sit, my belly rests on my lap. It was interesting at first, but now, it's getting to the point where it's a little bit of an annoyance. The main reason it's an annoyance: my belly is wanting to be lower than my legs. My lap actually gets in the way of my belly when I'm sitting. This creates awkwardness.

Same shirt, but not the same day.

Same shirt, but not the same day.

This is from today at almost 39 weeks. So's this. And this is the shot of me from 37 weeks in the same shirt. Let's put these side-by-side.     What do you think? (The first one is 37 weeks and the second one is today at almost 39 weeks.) I think nothing. They look the same to me. Only . . . maybe I'm a twinge more huge in the second one, and I'm definitely more tired-looking in the second one.

Christmas

Christmas has come and gone, and I'm still pregnant. I don't suppose I am surprised. I have been feeling some Braxton Hicks contractions, though, I'm pretty sure. So . . . maybe we'll make some progress soon. This kid continues to try to escape out the side door. He/She also finds it humorous to stomp on my bladder while I walk to the bathroom.

We did manage to accomplish a little with the baby's room. I put up some curtains, and Willi put together the baby changer/chest of drawers (which is totally awesome, by the way).

BTW, Michael Bolton is on the radio right now. Bleh. *radio off*

I had another in-grown toenail this weekend. This whole "swollen feet" thing is gettin' to be quite an adventure.

The whole "throwing up in my mouth" thing has made a comeback lately. I was thinking that whole thing was over since the baby is hanging out a little lower these days. Not so. Not so.

Still no stretch marks on the belly, though. That still shocks me.

I also bit it on the stairs on Saturday evening in the house after dawning some brand new slippers (they don't have rubber soles or anything). At least it wasn't ice-related this time, so I didn't wipe out nearly as bad as I did the two times last year on the front and back steps of our house. I just landed on my butt kind-of hard, and it hurt for -like- a day and a half. No belly issues, though. I also managed to not spill even a quarter of the glass of water that I was holding in my hand when it happened, too. Yet, I got totally soaked. It was magical. The kid didn't even know anything happened. The dog felt bad for me. I could tell. He also helped cleaned up the water and chunks of ice from my glass. He's a good dog.

The Browns and Millers were around this weekend. They weren't around long, but it was a good visit while it lasted. We ate some food. We opened some presents. It was good times.

Everyone was gone by Monday at 3 p.m., and Willi and I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas being totally lazy. It was awesome. It was especially easy for me to be lazy yesterday because I was literally winded just walking to the bathroom (I think it's the Braxton Hicks contractions in action).

Now, it's back to work for three days. Kid, you can show up any day now. You no longer will have to worry about sharing your birthday with Jesus. Let's go.
Dilly out.

Rotundamundo

This morning, I went to see my CNM for my weekly appointment. I've apparently made a tiny bit of progress since she checked me two weeks ago. I'm not -like- ready to go or anything by any means, but I at least have some validation that the little "cramps" I've been feeling are, indeed, small contractions. So, that's fun.

As I was signing up for my next appointment on the way out the door, the lady at the front desk said that Lisa (my CNM) won't be back into the office again until the 31st. So, that meant that my next possible appointment with her would be on Wednesday, January 2nd. Yeah. You heard that right. That's the day before my due date. I stood there for a few minutes with my mouth hanging open (as I was under the impression that I'd be going in every single week for a checkup whether she was there or not), and all I could say was, "Oh. Okay."

I don't suppose it's the end of the world or that it's a terrible thing. It's less of a hassle for me, really. I just wasn't expecting it. At all.

So . . . I will have no new information for you until I either go into labor or January 2nd. Wow. Hello, reality.

Also, I am basically over my cold, but for some reason, I still have some "stuff" stuck in my throat that won't go up, down, or out. It's really, really frustrating. It needs to go away -like- a week ago.

In other news, check out this article about Brian Breed's retirement. It's a little more in-depth than the one I posted yesterday. It's a little darker, really. I'm still a bit stunned. On a more positive note, I have photos!


Here is yet another lovely Christmas photo from our work Christmas party. I look a little different this year.


This is me today at 38 weeks.


Here's a closer shot of that.


Frosty and Santa came in, and people made me pose with them.

That's all I've got photo-wise.

Boy . . . it's going to be an interesting two weeks or so.

Christmas with the Dills and Other Fun Things

This weekend, my family came to our house for Christmas. Mom and Dad came Friday night, and then everyone else (minus sister Julie and fam) came for the day on Saturday. Everyone ended up leaving Saturday night because of the snow storm action. We did manage to have a pretty good time in the short time we had, though.

Here are some photos from that:















Ahh . . . good times. It went really fast, but it was really nice to see everyone who could come. It was awesome that everyone brought so much food, too. I barely had to do anything, which was lovely!

Julie and Dave, we hope you have a Merry Christmas! We missed you guys!

BTW, when Dad and Mom got there on Friday night, Dad brought in a computer for me! He apparently picked one up for me at Purdue Salvage, and then Jerm ended up setting me up on Saturday while he was there. I felt bad for him because it was that situation where he's the IT guy in the fam, and he spent the whole day putting my computer together. He forgot his shirt that says, "No I will not fix your computer."

Now, my computer situation at home is totally glorious. I was pretty crippled before with my old computer (my old computer was a beast I'd had since I graduated from high school—and it was old when I got it), but now it's awesome. We totally weren't expecting that, and it was a really nice surprise. Thanks Dad and Jeremy! That was incredibly thoughtful of both of you.

I didn't get a whole lot accomplished this weekend baby-wise, but I hope to this week.

In other news, a lady at work asked me to make some frosting labels (to fit on a Betty Crocker whipped frosting tub) for her kids. Apparently, her two little kids keep asking Santa for their own tubs of vanilla and chocolate frosting. I love it when people ask me to do stuff like this (and when I'm not busy) because it's a fun little break now and then. Here's what I came up with (I'm sure the sizing of these images is going to screw up the formatting on my site, but I don't really care).





We'll snow those kids yet. (She loved it, by the way.)

I'm humongous. Like, really humongous, and people keep asking me how I'm feeling. I think it's just going to get worse every day with that until this kid is here. By now, you know how much I love people asking me how I'm feeling. When they ask me, I just want to respond with, (SLAP!) "That's how I'm feeling. Good day."
And it's not that I'm feeling bad or uncomfortable: I'm just really, really tired of answering that question. It's that question (and others like it) that makes me feel like I've been pregnant for over a year.

Is there a difference?

Okay. I got to work, and a couple of ladies in my department said that I look like I've dropped since yesterday. I'm posting the photo from yesterday and the photo from today to see if there's a difference. What do you think? I can't really tell . . .

 
I feel lately like this kid might be dropping. I have to go to the bathroom a heck of a lot more.

What's more: if I have this kid right now, he/she wouldn't be considered early anymore. I'm technically full-term now.

I almost got to find out what the sex was yesterday, but we were in such a rush (my appointment was really, really late, and the CNM was in a hurry, I think. I seriously waited an hour before my appointment actually began). She was trying to hear the heartbeat as usual, and the kid was moving away from it. So, she ended up deciding to take me into the room with the small ultrasound machine to peek and get the heart rate. I didn't see anything, though. I was looking! If that ends up happening again, I may really push to have a peak. It'd be really helpful with us in our preparations (we can bust out some more infant gender-specific clothes and get them ready, then).
Everything else was normal at the appointment, though. So . . . I'm sittin' pretty (and huge). Three more weeks. Three more weeks!?

Stupid.

If I wanted to, I could be in a bad mood right now. Somehow, though, I've managed to fight it. Here's why I could be in a bad mood. Someone removed my braunschweiger and cheese from the fridge at work today. I've had braunschweiger and cheese stocked in the fridge at work for nine months (and not the same package, mind you. I've been through several packages), now. Apparently, someone suddenly has a problem with that. Also, I was talking to some ladies in the lunch room today, and one of them started asking about names. I mentioned that Willis and I have a list of names that we're taking with us to the hospital, and I didn't really give any details. Then, another lady that was sitting in the room (and was not necessarily part of the conversation) actually looked at me and said, "You're not going to name it Willis if it's a boy are you?" My gut reaction was to say, "Um . . . wow. That's not really any of your business," but luckily, I have a really strong filter on my mouth. So, what she heard me say out loud was, "Well . . . my husband is the fifth Willis, so . . . we might. We'll just have to choose a good middle name so that we can call the kid by that middle name, much like they did for him and his dad and so on." The lady literally crinkled up her nose. The other ladies I was speaking with actually tried to help me out by saying, "It is tradition. People do this all the time." Then, the crinkled up nose lady goes, "Well . . . you have to stop sometime." See? I could be in a heck of a mood right now, but somehow, I'm able to just look at all this and say, "Well . . . that was stupid." 'Cause it is. It's stupid. This also largely explains why I don't really talk about names with people. I like to avoid situations like that one. In other news, I'm at 37 weeks today. I have an appointment this afternoon. Here's what I look like: I'm also nearly over my cold now. It's not quite completely gone yet, but . . . it's really close. And no. We don't have the baby's room ready yet, and we probably won't by the time he/she comes. Somehow, I'm getting less and less worried about it. I didn't think that was possible. I'm just falling into the mindset of "everything will work out," I guess. It always does, doesn't it? I can't do everything at once right now, and I'm realizing that and accepting it. That's about all I can do to keep my sanity. Gotta go!

For Christmas, we're getting a baby.

This weekend proved to be fairly productive for us, and yet, I don't feel too exhausted or anything. I took plenty of breaks, and I didn't really do anything too hardcore, which is fairly unusual for me when we're productive on a weekend. Saturday, we searched Northwest Indiana hardcore for a real Christmas tree (seriously . . . does nobody do real Christmas trees up here or what? We legitimately could not find one anywhere but at our local Kroger. Last year, we got a tree from Menards, for crying out loud. It was a terrible tree, too—all lopsided.), and we ended up buying one from in front of Kroger. It felt a little weird, but the tree is actually pretty nice considering it's probably been sitting outside and cut for a week already. I just hope that when our munchkin gets older, we'll be able to find a real tree farm or something where we can go have a tree-gettin' experience.

It's so weird up here. How can you not want a real tree!? It's not like you're destroying the world: they grow trees specifically for Christmas, and they get chopped down anyway. They smell awesome. I can't imagine not having a real one. I can't imagine having to store a fake one. Blah. Sersly. And then, when you're done with the tree, you have some awesome firewood for summer time fires. Heck yeah. Maybe I'm like this because I come from the boonies, but Willi says he's never had a fake tree. That guy's a townie.

We also decorated for Christmas on Saturday. Check it.


I could've probably cleaned off my little end table there, but . . . I was in the midst of working on some thank you notes.


We love those big, fat lights.


Here's a view of the Christmas awesomeness that is our living room right now. Look at our puppy. Sometimes he rests his head on the armrest and watches the fire from his chair.


Here's a closeup of the nativity scene we have. Willi made it (and by made it, I think he painted it and maybe constructed the stable box) in Bible school a long time ago, I think. It's pretty cute.


I like to put lights on this window. It's a cool window.


I made this bad boy out of tree clippings, a stiff wire, a chain, and hot glue. I'm pretty proud of it.


View through the front window.


View of our house from the street. Willi put up the lights outside for me.

We don't go too crazy with the decorating, but it works for us.

Sunday, we worked on baby stuff. We've made some progress, but we've still got a lot to do. Willi put together the stroller (which is freaking sweet and all-terrain, basically), the baby swing, and the bouncy seat yesterday while I went through baby clothes and whatnot (and organized stuff). This week, we plan to set up the Pack n' Play in our bedroom because it has a bassinet in it. Once we do that, we're officially ready to have this kid if it comes early. Somewhat. I still need to get some kind of changing table situation going, but if we got desperate, I'm sure we could set something up. I still need to do some serious, serious laundry before this kid can come, too. I haven't washed a single clothing item for this baby yet. Oof. See what I mean? We still have a lot to do. Kid . . . you better stay put for awhile. I'd like to be over this cold before I go into labor, too.

This week, I've gotta get my house ready for holiday visitors. Over the next two weekends, our immediate families are coming. That means I need to be de-catting the house this week. I hope I can do it. I hope this cold goes away, too. It's doing better, but I'm still hacking up a lung every now and then. I've been using Breathe-Right strips the past couple of nights, and they're pretty sweet. I may kick this thing yet. Plus, I just took the last of my Z-pack this morning, so this thing better get going.

Last night was our Christmas dinner for work. We, of course, got another photo taken there. I'll be sharing that soon (once we get it).

To all you kids taking finals right now, good luck. Thank God I'm not in your shoes. Teehee. I wouldn't fit in your shoes right now anyway (well . . . unless you are Christopher, and in which case, I could still probably go skiing. Oh, wait. No I can't. Nevermind.).

Dilly out!

Wow.

Yeah. I'm really big now. That doesn't even look real, does it!? I will never be used to seeing myself like this. It all goes too fast to get used to anything. Just when I thought I was used to it, I got bigger. I wonder how big I'll get yet. I've still supposedly got five weeks to go. Oy. We're goin' to the Brown/Tracy baby shower this weekend at Amanda and Josh's house. I'm lookin' forward to seeing people I've not seen in awhile from Willi's family. I'm also lookin' forward to seeing Amanda and Josh's house again. We've not been there since May! This will be my last traveling weekend, I think, until the baby comes. That's a really weird thought. Wow. I actually hadn't realized that until I just now typed it. I will be going nowhere (nowhere far, that is) after this weekend until game day. Holy schmacks. I'm just gonna sit here and digest that.

Email Conversation Between Willi and Me

Jenny -
You're already getting me into trouble this morning.
WAB

---

How did I manage that?
BTW, did you hear the freaking 10 minute long Steely Dan song when we got here!? WTF!?

---

Jennifer -
Yes I did and thought of you.
Someone was asking how you were on the phone and mentioned you must be getting big enough to pop.  I made some Willy Wonka references, specifically you as Violet.  Maybe you needed juiced.
Everyone yelled at me afterwards.
WAB

---

HA HA HA HAHA!
You've got a blueberry for a wife.

Hank! (Mildly graphic content.)

No worries, everyone! Hank is okay!

I called my vet yesterday (they weren't in the office until 3:30 because of some conference or something), and when I told the lady what was wrong with Hank, she said, "Can you bring him in right now?"

I was like, "Uhh . . . maybe . . . um . . . I'll try to."

So, I left work early (after talking to people, of course, and ditching Willis since he had to stay until 5 p.m.), and I ran home. When I got there, I let the dog out, and then I went to collect the cat. When I went to grab him, the poor thing was hanging out in his litter box again and looking all frustrated. So, I waited for him . . . and waited . . . and waited. When he finally came out of the litter box, I let him clean himself up, and then I grabbed him up and ran out the door. We got to the vet with ten minutes to spare, luckily.

After a bit of waiting in the examination room, the vet came in and expressed Hank's bladder on the table. I was a little surprised at this, as I didn't realize that she had actually meant to have the cat pee all over the place. She told me afterwards that she did that on purpose, of course. They took a sample of that urine for a urinalysis. She told me that the fact that he actually peed meant that he wasn't "blocked."

She not only looked relieved about that, but she said that was a good thing. If he had been blocked (and if she had not been able to get him to pee), she said he'd have had to stay overnight to have a catheter put in and to be monitored. Oy. So . . . I was pretty relieved, too. I think Hank was also relieved considering I think this was the first time the poor cat had peed in a couple of days.

The vet gave Hank an antibiotic shot and an anti-inflammatory shot (for his pain), and we were on our way. She said they'd give us a call about the urinalysis the next morning.

Yesterday evening, Hank looked like a new cat! He actually looked like he felt better. He was all social, and his eyes looked brighter. He was even jazzy and whatnot—he attacked me in the bathroom right before I went to bed. (The cat occasionally attacks me in the bathroom when I'm leaving the room to go to bed. He's a spaz like that.)

Well, today the vet called me herself to tell me that our kitty is okay. He just has inflammation of the bladder (she said some fancy word that I couldn't repeat or spell). So, to treat him, we have to put him on some special food and sprinkle some special anti-inflammatory capsules that taste like salmon on his food for awhile. I don't think he's going to mind too much.

Now that this post has been primarily about my kitty, I must post a happy photo of him. Here:

In Cars

I basically have one thing to share today. So, here it is:


We saw these guys when we went to the grocery yesterday.

Now, tell me that you can't smile. Liar.

Okay . . . two more things: I made bread in my rice cooker, and our house is -like- kind-of coming together somewhat, which is nice.

The Mother of All Posts

Wow. Do I have a lot to post about today. It's mostly photos, so I'll get started on that.


Here's a shot of our nasty upstairs flooring that was under all the carpet. This is before we sanded and put polyurethane down.


Sanding in action, basically.


Here's a shot of one of the four bedrooms with the finished floors.


Upstairs landing/hallway finished.


This is a shot of our bedroom with finished floors.


And, of course, here's the lovely, wood paneling room with finished floors.

And now, here are some pretty fall photos from our street.


This is our street. If I had taken this photo a week prior, it'd have been much prettier, I think. I missed the really good colors.


This is the sidewalk on our street. Our house is actually a few houses down from where I'm standing.


A shot up the neighbor's awesome tree.


This is the extent of my fall decorating.


Shot of our street from the porch. It's a pretty view these days.

And now, it's time to gross you out. We cleaned our electronic air cleaner the other night, and it was so bad, we HAD to share.


Firstly, this is where the electronic air cleaner goes. (We've already pulled out the filter parts here.)


Isn't that disgusting? The dirtiest parts are the prefilters (the two filters laying on top).


Here's a shot of the air cleaner fins. They're pretty sick, too, but you can't really tell here. You'll be able to tell in the next photo.


Look at the water. See what I mean? Siiiiick.

And now, it's time to show you what I cooked in our rice cooker the other night. I'm so excited about it. It took 10 minutes, and the whole time it was cooking, I was doing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. That's usually a task that is saved for after cooking (and while the food gets cold). When it cooked in ten minutes, it flipped to warm, and the stuff stayed warm until we were ready to eat. It was so stinking awesome. I love it. Love it, love it, love it.


It's shells and cheese with tuna (we need to get to the grocery—this was a "dig in the pantry" night). We added diced tomatoes to it, too. We like those cold, though—not cooked.


Here's the pretty rice cooker. Ooooh. Pretty.

That's pretty much it for the photo session of this post.

In other news, I went to the doctor this morning. That went well. The beeb has moved from the transverse position to being in the "correct" position for the rest of this journey. I was pretty thrilled to hear that. I can't believe I didn't notice that happening. This kid moves quite a bit as it is, though. My CNM told me I've gained about 37 pounds, but she was assuming I weighed less than I did when I came in, so I think it's more like 30. Either way, though, I'm huge. I'm just glad she didn't -like- yell at me or anything. I'm not sure I'd be able to do anything about it, anyway. I eat when I'm hungry, and I eat fairly healthy. I keep active, too.

The baby's heart rate is clockin' in at 136 bpm these days. The last time I was in, it was in the upper 140s. It sounds strong, though, and I'm not surprised since this rat is kickin' me a lot.

I can't believe how fast this is going. Seven more weeks. That's not very far away.

And now, I get serious for a minute.

The closer that we get to game day, the more I am realizing what my sisters have been telling me since they started having kids. I know fear, now. I'm not afraid of being a parent. I'm not afraid of labor and delivery. So what is it that makes me afraid? Every day lately, I have crippling thoughts of losing Willis to a car accident or some freak thing—leaving me alone to bring this baby home to our big, empty house in La Porte. I worry that something is going to happen to me and the baby before this kid is even born (leaving Willis to deal with the loss of two instead of one). I think about when this kid gets older and all the horrible things that could happen. I fear having to bury this kid before the world buries me. I feel like a total nutcase! I sat there and cried to Willis about it last night. He sat there and talked me down, and he's the one that's usually the worrier. It's neat, though, instead of further worrying him, he was able to put any worry he had to the side and help me with mine. That's how it's supposed to work, and thank God it does.

I get it now, guys (sisters). I get it. It's terrifying. I can see how it's all worth it, though. I don't think I'll ever regret this.

Dilly out.