had a little nervous breakdown last night... It's been awhile since that's happened, but I guess that's the type of thing that is bound to happen once in awhile. I will set up my day for you.

It began at 4 am when I awoke from sleep. I went to the bathroom for the 8th time that night and returned to my empty bed. It was empty, you see, because poor Mike has been resorting to sleeping on the couch due to my incessant snoring. It's embarrassing for me to admit, but it's become quite the problem for the last few months, resulting from the 30 pounds I've gained, the constant stuffed nose and the inability to sleep on my stomach. So I lay in the bed, alone, and I began to think. Of course I think about the baby. I think that I am now overdue and wonder why that bothers me so much. I figure out it is because I was so determined to have a daughter by Christmas, and now it is looking like that will not happen. Not a big deal, but frustrating. I got caught up in that expectation thing that I try so hard to avoid because I KNOW what it does to me. It causes frustration breakdowns. So I rationalize my way through that, my only comfort coming from knowing that I'm scheduled for induction on December 30. At least I can be sure of something, right? (another expectation: can you see where this is going?)

So I continue to think about things. I miss my husband and I want him in bed with me. I begin to miss making love like we used to. Ever since about the 7th month, pregnant sex has been unappealing to me. The positions are limited and things just don't feel the same. I want to feel Mike close to me, but he can't get close because, literally, the baby is between us. So this starts to make me sad and, again, my only comfort comes from the expectation that I will be done by the 30th at the latest!

At this time it is about 5 am. I go get Mike from the couch and ask him to come to bed. Having him there was comforting and I began to feel better, yet I still couldn't sleep. But you guessed it, about 10 minutes before the alarm was scheduled to ring, I fall asleep.

At work I was greeted with the all too familiar, "are you still here?" I'm getting wary of that statement. I know everyone is anxious, but no one as anxious as I. I'm self-conscious, tired of being noticed as "still pregnant", just plain tired of being pregnant. I grin and bear it because, yeah, only til the 30th, right?

Mike picked me up in the afternoon for our midwife appointment. Joanne is gone for the week and we will be seen by Carol. First of all, I've gained 3 pounds since last Wednesday. But some good news is that Macy has rolled over and is posterior on my left side, which is supposed to be the perfect place for her to be (she's been on the right for awhile and I've been doing exercies to move her). I wanted Carol to say something like, "looks like you're in labor, let's go to the hospital." But no. And here's the topper... We ask her to confirm with the hospital that we're scheduled for induction on the 30th and the hospital doesn't have us scheduled. We're not sure if Joanne forgot, or changed her mind, but either way, now we don't know what's going on. We were instructed to call Monday morning to find out. So my ray of light has been smothered, my expectation quashed. I'm so scared now that we'll call Monday and be told we can't get in for a week or something. I'm just so fed up, frustrated and tired and my only comforting, stable thought has been that scheduled induction on the 30th. I know, I'm being a big baby. There are so many things that could have gone wrong. I've been happy, healthy and I'm down to the last few days, regardless. Again, it's those damn expectations that I can't seem to get rid of.

But at this point of the day I'm still quite calm. I go back to work, but am admittedly depressed for the rest of the afternoon. It doesn't help that I have absolutely nothing to do. When 5 finally rolls around and I'm driving home, I should have known something wasn't right with me because one of my favorite songs was on the radio, and I turned it off. But I finally arrive home to my wonderful husband and, you guessed it, one little harmless, meaningless conversation with him about post-pregnancy weight loss sends me into a fit of tears that didn't stop for hours. I thought I had them under control and we headed out the door to our final childbirth class, but three blocks away, I squeaked out that I didn't want to go. Mike immediately turned around and drove home. Once inside, I ran to the bathroom to bawl. The thought of going to class and being asked questions and being looked at... I knew I'd lose it.

But Mike was there and he took care of me. He held me as I cried and prepared a fire in the fireplace while I showered. We lay on the couch and talked for hours. We opened the gifts in our stockings, because, as Mike put it, that's the benefit of being an adult, you can do what you want. We saved the big ones for Christmas day, of course, but after all that, it turned out to be a wonderful evening... that is, after my breakdown ceased.

So here we are, Christmas Eve. I'm much better today. I'm not expecting anything from this little, stubborn baby, except that she come out when she's ready. I feel like such a clod when I think about how silly this is. I think about my dad, who went through years of pain dying from cancer, who never complained. I think about my mom, who had 5 kids, I think we were all late, and she never complained. And I think of all the people who want to have a baby and can't, or who lose their babies to miscarriage or some other tragedy, and here I am, breaking down because of impatience and frustration. I'm such a jerk.

On that happy note, I want to wish all reading a great holiday. Rest assured I will begin to write of other things besides being pregnant, most likely motherhood, after all this is over. I hope to keep my readers entertained and will try not to be an annoying mom-writer. We'll just see. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!