Due dates aren’t reliable, I get it. We’re guessing at when a new little person is going to make their way into the world & yeah, it’s a guess. But if we are to count on ours, then we’re eighty-four days away from meeting our firstborn son. It’s weird. I’m twenty-five years old, pregnant — in my third trimester(!), and we’re two weeks away from celebrating four years as husband & wife. When did this all happen? We’re like... all grown up.
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