No one Likes a Frowny Face.

And I've been sporting a frowny face for far too long.  I hate to admit it, but it is so very true.  I think my family & friends must be sick of me & this pregnancy.

I had another doctor's appointment today & for whatever reason, doctor's appointments send me into a bit of an emotional tail spin.  I'm not sure what I am expecting...my water to break on the table?  To find out I have indeed been in labor & they need to rush me to the hospital immediately to deliver the baby?  The hospital found out about my man-child and are going to change the 39-week rule just for me?  Super!

Any of those would be welcome, but alas, I usually find out the same.  I am 36-and-a-half weeks & yes, my baby is still big.

And then I leave.

And two hours later when my back is literally throbbing & Scoobs is helping to rub menthol lotion on it & I can't see straight, I bawl my eyes out.  I bawl because my hormones are obviously swinging hard & fast in both directions.  I bawl because I am tired of the back pain.  I bawl because I want to be able to move again.  I bawl because I'm just tired.  It has been days since I have slept, maybe weeks?  I can't really remember.

And then I'm grouchy.  Just ask Scot.  Most nights I'm a real treat by the time he gets home.  And I've decided I have a whole new respect for people that suffer with chronic pain.  It makes me a big pain in the you-know-what.

Then my grouchiness turns to action & I think, "Well, I know what will solve this problem!  We will just get this baby out!"  And then I obsess about this & that & a whole lot of crap that really probably doesn't work.

Pretty good frowny face right?  I bet you want to run right over & hang out with me all day.

Tonight as I was taking my ritual soak -- it is the only way to relieve the weight on my back -- I got to thinking...what do I even want out of this whole experience?

I realize it does not need to be as painful as I am making it.  And I also realize that it does in fact require some literal pain & sacrifice.

After mulling it over a bit I know what I want.  Having had 2 c-sections, I did, in fact, lament with my sister-in-law that I would never know what labor felt like.  I would never have that middle of the night wake up call.  I would never know the pain of the contractions.  I would never have birth out of my control.  I pick the date, I pick the time, clean my house, make arrangements for my kids, pack my bags, show up & bam...there is my baby.  It is kind of great, really great, but again, I longed for the 'labor' experience.  And that, for better or for worse, is what I want.

Even though, you should know, it absolutely terrifies me.  Whether or not my worry is warranted, I've been told for so long that I am 'high-risk' if I go into labor, that the idea is a bit more than scary.  That being said, I also want to know that my body functions normal.  I don't want to pick the date.  I want to feel the contractions & drop whatever it is I am doing.  I want the rush of not knowing exactly when this baby is coming...even though it has been driving me absolutely nuts.

And so, now that I know, I will wait.  I will wait until he is ready to come.  Without a frown.  Maybe not a smile.  But with faith.  Which is so much better than fear.  Fear makes for frowns.  And I'm pretty sure faith makes for fun.

I'll keep you posted.