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Here we are, 24 weeks, the time of silent cheer. Viability. I have found myself eagerly awaiting this milestone during this and my last pregnancy, it is a cause for celebration. Of course 24 weeks is still so early, too early, but it offers the slight hope that God forbid something were to go wrong and I had to deliver early, our baby would have a chance. I imagine that it sounds crazy to most people. I am, after all, only a little over half way there. But for those of us who have helplessly watched our little miracles arrive early, this time allows for a slight release of breath.
I pray I will be fat and pregnant at 40 weeks, even "over-due" like I was with Henry. As sick as I get with pregnancy I love it. It is what I have always hoped most for, and I look forward to waddling my way around, for what I imagine will be my last time, for months to come. Good work, sweet baby boy, keep on
cookin'. Mama loves you. 24 weeks!!