Pregnancy hormones are funny things. I was reading on Claire Holley’s site that during her first trimester she had a “wave of musical inspiration.” My first trimester was spent trying to stay awake. My second trimester was spent finding food and finding it fast. And now, my third trimester is being spent wondering where the time went, where is the nearest napping location, and how the hell do I stop all this crying?

Anyway, yesterday D had me helping him set up the painting tent in the back yard so we (I) could put a coat of paint on the storage soultion after D finished sanding them. The painting tent starts off with a cheap canopy (purchased from the dollar store for $15) that has all these poles to put together before you put the plastic canopy on it. I could not get some of the poles to stay together and it was getting increasingly frustrating. So frustrating that when D came to the backyard to see if I was going to have it done before sundown and I was just bawling my eyes out.

D, never having been given the gift of understanding female (pregnant) hormones, was absolutely confounded and couldn’t figure out why I was crying and if he should stop and comfort me. Because my actions were to keep crying but to also keep working, he also kept working on helping me finish putting the paint tent up.

It is just a crazy rollercoaster ride that I think I am ready to get off of.

Yes, I said it. I am ready to get this nine month journey done.

Today D called to tell me that his parents will not be coming here for the weekend to bring the baby stuff. Instead, they plan on riding out Hurricane Ivan at The Lake where they have water from a well, a power generator, and other things the cast of survivor wishes they also had. This news is ok, there is nothing to waiting another week to fill up the room with the baby stuff (it gives us a few more days to get a few more things done), but for some reason, I felt my chest tighten, my eyes fill up, and all I wanted to do was cry.

I’m at work and I quickly squashed that reaction.

Now, I understand that the whole crying thing may get worse after the baby is born, but at least I won’t also be having problems breathing, walking, or wondering how fast I can get to the bathroom.

I think those postpartum tears will be a mixture of both exhaustion and joy, with a little relief thrown in.

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