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I truly don't know how anyone handles this anticipation for nine months forty weeks TWO HUNDRED EIGHTY DAYS. Thank god four of those weeks - a full 28 days! - have usually gone by before you even know you're knocked up. Two hundred fifty two days seems so much more manageable than two hundred eighty. And I can knock another two weeks off that since I've already somehow survived to six weeks, so only two hundred thirty eight remain! I'm just trying to make myself feel better. That still seems to be an insurmountable amount of time to pass. I suppose I can console myself with the fact that, despite what I feel like, I'm not actually an Asian elephant, who gestates for 645 days. On the other hand, elephants are so forgetful that perhaps the waiting game is nothing to her, since she regularly forgets that she's pregnant, a feat which I have yet to accomplish.

In a way, it's probably a good thing I have to keep this quiet* for another six weeks...it's all I can think about, and the few people who DO know are probably already desperately looking for a sock or rag to shove into my mouth to shut me up.

*Blabbing to clients notwithstanding

--L