9 months, 39 weeks.

9 months.
39 weeks.
Today.

I have been dreading 39 weeks.  Very much.  I carried her for 39 weeks and 4 days.  At 39 weeks and 5 days my gorgeous daughter will have been gone longer than she was here.

I cannot handle that thought.  It overwhelms me, but it is here and there's nothing I can do about it but get through it.

At 39 weeks of pregnancy, it was a Friday.  I was getting a membrane sweep at the doctors.  She was close, so so close.  The doctor told me that it can help get labor started, hopefully within 48 hours.  She told me to walk a lot.  I did.  I walked around the neighborhood over and over.  I was so so ready to meet her.  And so was John.  At 39 weeks.

I miss her always, but these days are harder somehow.

I should be writing more.  Healing is a choice.  Writing for me is very healing.  But I'm so busy these days, and I have to make time for it.  I'm not really sure that I'm ready to choose healing.  It's hard to explain, but if it didn't hurt so much, it feels like it would mean I don't care.  I think it's something everyone who grieves goes through, when to really choose to heal.

Either way, I've got to find more time to write, because I really need it.  Especially on days like today.