I have begun the 22 day count down. As the estimated time of arrival decreases, my complaining increases. Sample:

I am Tired. Of Tired. Of eating so much. Of eating so little. Of not being able to sleep. Comfortably. Of 28 pounds in my stomach. Of hoping my grandfather will be able to meet this baby. Of bending over. Of using two hands to put my seatbelt on, and of stressing about the airbag deploying. Whew.

I rub my tummy and ask Gabriel if he is ready to come out and meet me. I use plenty of endearments.

The baby is heedless of my gentle coaxing for him to come. Good thing I am Calvinist, and ready to excuse this blatant act of rebellion. Ready to meet this sweet little sinner.

Glad that I got that off my chest. Do you hear that? A nap softly whispers my name. It’s call is irresistible. Good Night.