And it couldn't come sooner. That's all I really have to say. Oh, except to report that my hip (and lower back and, now, adjacent knee) are feeling worse than ever, thank you very much. At this point, I'm lucky if I can carry Daniel down the hall without twisting my hip in a way that yields a stabbing pain. ("Mommy hurt," he says sympathetically when I yelp.) I can lift him up fine in a standing position, but walking is the tricky part. (I'm embarrassed to admit this, but we actually went to Walgreen's two weekends ago and bought me a cane. Don't laugh; it helps.) And sleeping is getting pretty challenging, too. I got a short, directed massage last week at my chiropractor's office; it was blissful, and I plan to repeat it again weekly until the baby is born. My half-hour slice of heaven.
P.S. Happy St. Patrick's Day!