Yesterday was a weird day. I woke up too early after being up late at a wedding and could not get back to sleep no matter how hard I tried. So I got up, but then spent the whole morning on the verge of an emotional meltdown. It finally happened shortly after noon when John asked if I wanted to go with him to the Jazz Fest downtown to hear a band we enjoy, led by a friend of a friend from Cedar Falls. I burst into tears and sobbed, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I can't get my emotions under control today!" John calmly replied, "Maybe because you're pregnant?" Oh yeah.

I think most men freak out or are at least squirmy uncomfortable at the sight of any woman's tears, especially those of their wife. But around here, tears have not been uncommon these last few months, so maybe he was relieved that there was no reason--no new or renewed pain triggering the outburst.

It's not that I ever forget that I'm pregnant, but I don't always focus on the enormous complexity of all that's going on physically. When I was pregnant with Will I was obsessed with the What to Expect When You're Expecting book and read and re-read it constantly to know what was going on at every moment. Now I know that there's no way to know what to expect next week or next month so I try to focus on each day. There's really no book for a pregnancy like this and I'm not sure I'd want to read it anyway. Maybe it's better not to know what's ahead. Maybe this is yet another test of my ability to give up my need to control and plan every last detail and just let myself be swept along. I guess that includes letting the tears flow where they may.