Today everything was basically the same. I've officially gotten good at accepting that the measurements don't matter that much, but it's also a lot easier now because the risks of preterm birth are smaller. We're down to the final stretch... just over a week away from the ultimate goal of 34 weeks, and all signs suggest we'll reach it. Obviously 37 would be even better, but once we get to 34 we're outside of the window for most all significant problems we could have faced had Tate been born when we originally thought.
This week life has veered slightly back towards normal. I'm allowed to sit up and move around a little more, and Kevin takes me for a wheelchair ride every afternoon which gives me a little time outside of our lovely hallway. I've spent the past two days picking out clothes for Tate since we have nowhere near enough, and last night I entertained the night nurses with glow bracelets (which they actually wore all night long!). If you take out the hospital and the wheelchair, it's been a pretty normal week... picking out baby stuff and laughing with new friends. It's still different than what I always imagined this time would be like, but I don't mind so much anymore that this will be our story. There are some pretty awesome parts that wouldn't have been there if I'd gotten my way.
Soon life will change again. Before we know it, I'll be home, and not too long after that we'll finally get to meet Tate. Life at the hospital will be a distant memory, except for when we come back to visit the women we've grown to love who've kept us safe for so long. We have so much to be thankful for and even more to look forward to... only one week to go!