Fall is my favorite

even if I can't fit into any of my favorite sweaters. Or my favorite sweatpants, for that matter. I've officially reached the point at which I can no longer fit into even my maternity clothes.

I've also reached the mental point, inevitable in any pregnancy, at which the physical discomforts of being 9 months pregnant start to outweigh the terror of the pain of childbirth and the stress of the overwhelming life change a newborn brings. It's pretty miraculous really. I know lots of people say from the beginning "Oh I just can't wait to hold my little bundle in my arms!" and obviously I feel that way too, or I wouldn't be in this position.

But. But.

Is there really a day you could wake up and say "TODAY is the day I feel ready to be a mother of three"?

Or say "RIGHT NOW is when I went to experience that most intense pain again. Right this minute would be good. I finished hanging up all the pictures and there's really nothing else on my to do list today."

Or maybe "You know I feel pretty well rested. I'm ready to not sleep again for more than 3 hours at a stretch for a few months..."

Yeah. So for lots of ladies, me included, I think the abject miseries of congestion, pelvic separation, diminished lung capacity, intermittent (and always exciting!) jabs to the kidneys, tiny bladder, nausea, insomnia, and exhaustion are just a thoughtful gentle, necessary nudge toward embracing new parenthood.

I myself am longing to meet this new person. And not just because I am a victim of "turtle on its back" syndrome every time I try to turn over at night. I am so curious to know this baby, and so excited to welcome it into our family.

And also I love fall so much, and there's really only one thing (besides a fireplace in my house) that could make it better.

And that would be if someone else had to come finish potty training Jane while I was in the hospital.

Any day now, baby.