Tomorrow is D-Day. "D" as in "delivery." But also as in the actual D-Day, i.e., the World War II one. Hopefully, mine won't be as violent.
That means it's time to post my last pregnancy pics. Also, a shot of the last book I read, Jenn McKinlay's Strawberried Alive. A somewhat grittier-than-usual cozy, it's about a serial killer bumping off small business owners as well as, of course, strawberry cupcakes. That said, I have four paperbacks stashed in my hospital bag, two romcoms and two mysteries. I'm not naïve enough to think that I'll be able to read them, but I feel better just knowing they're there.
It's a weird feeling, this hurry-up-and-wait for the most important day of my life. But I take comfort in knowing that countless women have felt the same way, and that most of them -- unlike those soldiers -- lived to tell the tale.
So I don't think there's anything left to say except this:
See you on the other side.
