Numbers

(285) days pregnant
(countless) hormonally-charged pregnancy dreams, including falling off a crumbling Bay Bridge to be brought to the surface by a benevolent dolphin and eel savior
(65+) estimated articles of infant clothing, washed, and sorted according to size
(11) prior blog posts that are confusingly introspective and/ or reflectively verbose
(lots of) wondering and waiting
(25) extra pounds of body weight, all in my bowling ball of a midsection
(three or four) jars of Nutella eaten
(nightly) fetal hiccups that are preparing a strong diaphragm for the consumption of the best, most nutritious beverage on Earth
(maybe five) annoying comments about my changed body.  Somehow, a pregnant body is an acceptable topic of brutally honest conversation.  "Puffy."  Enough said.
(more than five) beautiful comments and assurances about the baby, the body--mostly from my kids at school.  "I hope he's cute," says one fourth grader.  Big tummy hugs from Kayla, tiny massaging hands of Celeste accompanied by squeals of delight at his physical responses to the attention, and generous parents (who may or may not have a lot of resources from which to draw) picking out brand new cute things for their children to give to the baby
(two) annoyingly needy cats who sense that a change is on the horizon
(many) supportive loved ones who keep checking on Levi's progress via phone, message, the Internerd, etc.
(many) times I have had to tell these loved ones that I don't know when he's coming, but that he's coming
(one) car seat, locked and ready to be loaded
(one) hospital bag packed
(two) parents longing to see and feel those little feet from the outside
(enduring) gratitude to everyone else waiting patiently for and supporting this kid already