The wait is almost over. I’m so excited I don’t know what to do with myself, but a little sad, too. I have really enjoyed this experience, and I know how lucky I am to be able to say that. As much as I’ve complained abut the swollen feet and backaches, and as much as Dan is convinced that I have absolutely lost my mind and will never get it back, it has all been worth it. I love watching my belly move as she tries to get comfortable, and I adore having my little girl this close to me,  right under my heart.

I just realized that I’ve been blogging here since April about my pregnancy journey and anticipation of this wonderful blessing who is about to come into our lives, and I have not mentioned Sylvia Plath even once. What kind of English teacher lets something like that happen??

So, here it is – the poem that pretty much sums up the ninth month of waiting. And, don’t worry. The only things going into my oven are chocolate chip cookies and cranberry muffins. 🙂

Enjoy!

Metaphors

I’m a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf’s big with its yeasty rising.
Money’s new-minted in this fat purse.
I’m a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.

Sylvia Plath

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