I've been bugging him and bugging him and today he made THE appointment.

For Sept 17th. For the big V. I really really know that it is for the best and just yesterday I was thinking how wonderful it will be to clean out all the boy baby clothes and what a relief it is to be almost done with my reproductive years. Like, I actually felt a physical relief.

As most of you know, getting pregnant is such an endeavor and then there's the whole staying pregnant part that I'm not so good at, followed by the difficult pregnancy itself.(prenatal asthma, varicose veins everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE, carpal tunnel, headaches, etc. etc.) I'm actually worried about how long I'll breastfeed this time because I'm not feeling particularly enthusiastic. Usually the mere thought of nursing a baby just melts me, but this time it seems more annoying. (I'm hoping that holding the baby herself will change that.)

I've been looking forward to being able to be on my OCD medication again, and be able to sleep again so I can be a MUCH better mom than this crazy exhausted shrew I have been. I was so psychologically and physically done this morning.

But still...

This afternoon I had that dream again. The recurring dream I have had since I was little about my dining room table and there was me at one end and my husband at the other and 7 chairs around the sides. Over the years the chairs in my dream have filled. And today, 6 chairs were filled. 1 was empty. Am I going to spend the rest of my life staring at that empty chair? I'm a completely rational person. There is no real reason for having another child. It wasn't like anyone, including me, really noticed at the table. Or felt sad. or even acknowledged that there was someone missing. But, my mind's eye could not stop seeing it.

empty.