New Years day not only marked my due date, but Vanessa is now over 100 days old. I don't know why that seems so significant to me, but it does. I had hoped and prayed since she was born that she would be home by now, but she isn't. I can't help but feel frustrated. Everything bothers me. I get bothered when I can't get a closer parking spot at the hospital, because every wasted moment is keeping me away from not only Vanessa, but Henry and Travis too. On New Years Eve, we brought our fire pit out into the street and roasted marshmellows with the neighbors and their family. The neighbors mother in-law started talking to me about her 30 something daughter and how she was born just over 5 pounds and that she had to stay in the hospital for 9 days and how difficult that was... are you FREAKING kidding me??? Luckily, I am not a violent person, but all I could think of was flying over that fire pit and clobbering the lady. I simply responded to her, "Tomorrow is 100 days". She didn't have much to say after that. It's rather strange because I know, rationally, that she was just trying to relate to me, but my heart felt otherwise.
I've never been much of a runner (rofl), but I imagine that this last stretch feels similar to the last mile of a marathon. So close, but still so far. I've asked the dreaded question of when, and most of the Doctors and Nurse Practitioners agree another 2 to 3 weeks. I'm ready...
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