It's my party and I'll cry if I want to!

Had a wee bit of a break down yesterday afternoon...ok, it was more like a four alarm.  I think my husband was in shock.  Marlie didn't know what to say but was sure hoping her sweet, frequent, hugs and kisses would snap me out of it.  Harper, being Harper, just stripped off her diaper and clothes and headed out to the backyard to play in the fountain.  All this was taking place simultaneously as I was attempting to fax/scan an 11 page document to finish up the new car purchase and the machine wasn't cooperating by jamming over and over again.  The all-in-one dirt bag was lucky he didn't get thrown across the garage along with the 11 page document.  Josh ended up spending $15 bucks at Office Max to send it via fax and while he was out of the house I desperately tried to pull it together.  I needed to put myself in "time out".
Why, you ask?
Well, we've spent the last 7 months speculating and planning our timing for the delivery of this baby boy.  Harper was a big baby and apparently it freaked my doc out a bit when she was stuck at her shoulders.  So many months ago he planted the seed that this time we would induce early, maybe even elect for a c-section so that mother and child didn't die on the delivery table.  Of course I'm being dramatic when I say "die" but that is the first place I go to when thinking about a hospital stay gone wrong.  So for the last few months I've had very vivid nightmares about this happening and have been pestering my doctor for a strategy to give me some peace of mind.  He offered up an ultrasound at 36 weeks to get an estimate on Kai's size.  We did that last Monday...and the estimate was that he was 7 lbs, 5 oz +/- 17 oz.  No medical professional that has seen or touched my belly in the last month has said anything but "my, o, my! this guy is big!" so making the minus side of the 17 oz discrepancy pretty much ruled out.  Until yesterday.
I don't want to go into ALL the details, but lets just say Dr. T messed with the wrong pregnant lady on her birthday.  And being all pregnant, I lost it, and bawled my eyes out.  He must have been having a bad day, or maybe he needs to see a mental health professional, because he had seriously changed his tune and was delivering one mixed message after another that included "jeopardizing your baby's health for his lifetime," and "those ultrasounds aren't accurate whatsoever."  Ok, so now I'm a bad mom for wanting to have this baby now?  He even went so far as to say as he was examining my belly that the baby wasn't so big after all...to which I called him "the biggest stinker on the planet."  No joke.  I'm sure this guy really wants to be present in the delivery room with me if this is how I acted for an office visit.
Josh assured me on the sobby cry home that I wasn't crazy...that for months we've been told that the ultrasound would give us some direction when Dr. T didn't even look at the results.  He even implied that the c-section was my idea?  And why would I want to be gutted like a fish if it wasn't dire?  I have 3 children to chase after the moment this kid is born.
So in the middle of my breakdown, in the back of my mind I'm thinking this might be a good strategy to go into labor?  We'll nothings happening.  I'm up at the crack of dawn because the little soccer player in my belly heard his daddy get up to leave for work at 5 am. And there is no sleeping when Kai is kicking. Maybe he'll look like David Beckham?
So the waiting came continues.  More time to clean and organize I guess.
Maybe I should start exercising? Walking around Target has been the extent of it lately and I find that to be exhausting.
Eating spicy foods has never been my thing and the heartburn I would suffer afterward would probably send me over the edge.
Acupuncture?  Been there, done that.
Sex?  HA!
My doctor begged me not to try all those crazy concoctions when I told him I was going to get this thing started on my own.
One thing I know for sure is that this baby is big and healthy.  How could he not be?  Of course I feel a bit guilty for wanting this pregnancy to be over asap.  And I'm not even sure where this deep seeded motivation is coming from other than fear.  I just don't want to even imagine that anything could go wrong and what pregnant lady and soon to be mother-of-three wouldn't want some control over the situation?  Even if the situation is out of her hands?

Going to leave with three pics...the best days of my life.  Waiting, waiting to add a fourth to the family album.

Had to scan this one in...we've been married that long:)  Doing this triggered the purging and organizing of a big ol' box of photos.  Did I really take 19 rolls of film of the construction of our house from the foundation up?  Geesh, I guess I have some more "nesting" to get to...