The smell of cute toddler head pressed up under my nose. I've said it at least ten times in the past month. It still bears repeating, I think. The best thing ever. She crawled up in my arms tonight, with her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sliced banana, and ate her dinner before falling asleep in the curve of my arm clutching a sippy cup of milk. As long as I live I'll not get tired of that. It makes everything else worth it. If I have to go on full bedrest, if I have to step up the laying down flat to get the pressure down enough to stop the too-tight feeling in my face, I don't care. In a couple of months I'll have a toddler in one arm and a newborn in the other. A happy, healthy, (hopefully) fullterm infant. I'll need to have someone there to lift them off me or I'll be spending whole nights in the armchair with my babies. But would that really be such a bad thing apart from the stiff neck in the morning?

I can do this pregnancy. I really can. I can bring it to a good conclusion. It doesn't have to end in disaster and emergencies this time. I can succeed.