Two Weeks Left!

Till Me Time is lost forever--or, at least, for the next 18+ years. If not for all his squirming around in there, and the difficulty I have bending over and sitting up, I'd find it hard to believe his arrival date is just 2 weeks away (*plus one day, if my husband's wish comes true).
I'm not planning to run the NYC marathon on Sunday, but I feel great. Sure, a late night for me now means anything past 9pm and my ability--or desire, anyway--to schlep groceries and other purchases is limited to about a 3-block radius. But as I told my husband last night, besides the additional 21 pounds I'm carrying (one third of which belong to our unborn son, according to the Ultrasound estimate I got last Friday), I may be in the best shape of my life. I've been fortunate to have had a relatively easy pregnancy, not counting those 8 weeks of near non-stop nausea at the beginning. I'm still exercising almost every day. I'm doing prenatal yoga at least once a week. I'm eating well--relatively speaking, at least (it seems a shame not to use some of those extra 300 calories we're allotted each day towards dessert!)--and taking vitamins plus iron, Vitamin B12 and fish oil supplements. Except for the occasional sip now and then, I haven't had a drink since I learned I was pregnant. And now that I'm on maternity leave, I'm getting at least 7 hours of sleep a night. It's no wonder I feel so good.
The true test will come after he arrives, when taking care of me falls to a distant second behind meeting his needs. From what my mommy friends, and sister, tell me, I'll be lucky if I can squeeze a shower in each day, much less a workout or a proper meal. So I'm going to try and squeeze as many of those into my last pre-mommyhood days as I can--as well as manicures, matinees, meals out with friends, and romantic "dates" with my husband. I have a feeling it will be awhile till I can enjoy, or even think about, any of those again after he arrives.