Depending on the due date you use, I'm either 39 weeks tomorrow or will be 40 weeks on Thursday. I've been going by the later date, as I thought it would be easier on my psyche. Rationally I know that it doesn't really matter which date I prefer--she's not going to come out until she's good and ready. But still...I'm the kind of person who likes to be able to count down. I like to know how many miles on the interstate I have left to drive. I used to make paper chains to count down the days until Christmas. I like my paper calendar because I can *see* the days stretch out before me...and then I can cross them off, or turn the page to the next week. Of course I realize this isn't how it works with babies, and it's driving me slightly batty.

This weekend I stayed very busy and, while stiff, I felt really good. I guess I had that "burst" of energy that I have been reading about for the past couple of months (and recently told my mom that I didn't think I would ever have). I've just felt good. I've also felt a little funny, in ways that I can't really explain...it was enough to make me think (and say out loud) that I thought my body was getting ready to have a baby in a few days. Not tomorrow, mind you, but a few days. Well, today I woke up feeling like someone had hit me across the eyes with a 2x4. So much for my burst of energy. I was tired, stiff, sore, and had an awful headache. You know, when I got up the first time at 12:23 this morning, I had a headache and took some Tylenol. Then I took some more when I got up at 6:30. I just assumed it would be gone by the time I got up for work. Nope, still there. The worst part, however, was feeling completely normal again...like nothing was happening. I've been discouraged and just generally down all day. I'm just ready to have my baby, that's all.

Tomorrow we have a doctor's appointment, and for the first time, I dread going. I know what he's going to say and I'm already not happy about it. First, I will have gained 2-3 lbs. He'll tell me that my weight is up and circle it on my chart. Then he'll say to watch the sweets and watch my salt. At this late date I don't know why it really even matters anymore. Next he'll do an exmination, after which he'll say, "everything looks good." Not, mind you, "Wow, you're dialated this week!" or "You're completely effaced!" or my favorite fantasy "Don't you realize you're in labor? You need to go to the hospital immediately to have your baby!" So, even though I'm trying to prepare myself for the fact that I will have made no progress, I know I'm going to be disappointed. And then I get to go to the office and tell everyone who asks that there's no progress. If you work with me and you see me tomorrow and I don't immediately provide you with a status update report, please don't ask, it means that I have nothing to report.

Lest this sound like a big pity party for Leslie, I will point out that I am pregnant with a healthy active baby who, even now, is pushing her left foot into my side as if she's trying to break free. I'm grateful for this, I'm just getting really impatient. So is Jeff. The worst part about this is that we're both impatient and becoming irritable with each other. I know everyone says to enjoy this time together, but the truth is that we're ready for this time to be over. We're ready to meet our baby girl. But, alas, all we can do is wait...

I'll post an update tomorrow letting everyone know what the doctor doesn't say...