The home stretch

I'm getting over the hump now. You know - the one where one side is the "if the baby arrives" and the other side is the "when the baby arrives."

I can hardly believe that in two days, I'll be 26 weeks. That milestone has been in my head for a while. 26 weeks is when this kid is going to have an 80% chance of survival if it has to be born early for any reason. I'm so ecstatic to be here. 28 weeks brings us up to about a 96% chance of survival. Although I want to keep this baby cooking for as long as I can, I'm starting to feel like we're on the home stretch.

Of course...

That means that we're getting really close to the looooong sleepless nights, and the BFing struggles, and the hours of crying for no particular reason. (The baby, not me... although I'll probably be crying a lot too if the first baby is any indication!)

And then I look at my son, and I think to myself that if this little person turns out to be half as amazing and sweet as he is, all the trying, all the failing, the miscarriages, the doctors' appointments and testing, the yeast infections and progesterone, the sleeplessness and crying... All of that will be worth it.