Three weeks, two days. Then I wake up early (as if I’ll have gotten any sleep the night before) to go to the hospital to deliver Sun. I will finally get to see her face, her arms and legs, her fingers and toes. I’ll get to hear her voice–her first cry.

Peanut will have to adjust to not being the cutest creature in the house anymore nor the one who gets the most attention. I already feel bad for her. Sweet, loyal kitty. She’s been all about me this past week–very out of character for her; she’s usually all over CS. I swear I think she knows about the baby and that she’s trying to get in good with me while she can. I am okay with that. But it won’t change the demotion she will suffer in three weeks, two days.

I know I will need all the help I can get and will be grateful to have it–that I’ll want to see family and friends and to have them meet Sun, too. But looking forward, all I want right now is to get Sun home and have CS and I spend all those sleepless hours alone getting to know her and her getting to know us. I don’t feel I’ll want to share her, even to show her off. I just want to hole up and keep her to myself. I’ve gotten used to having her all to myself. Hell, sharing her with CS will be enough sharing for me! I don’t even like the idea of having visitors at the hospital. I feel I need a headstart on being a mother before the world actually sees me as one for real.

Oh, how my world is about to change. Will I actually feel the earth shake under my feet? I’ll know in three weeks, two days.