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I.  Am.  Done.

I'm done with the separation.

I'm done with the gallbladder attacks.

I'm done with the house payments.

I'm done with not sleeping.

I'm done feeling lonely.

I'm done with people telling me that: a) I should have had this baby by now, b) when in the world am  I gonna have this baby, and c) that I'm huge and/or look like I'm having twins.

I'm done with the financial struggles.  We've done it for 16 months.

I'm done with having no energy because my body is losing iron at an alarming rate...again...

I'm done feeling like I have to have a strong/brave face for everyone around me.

I'm tired of talking to my husband on the phone at night instead of him being beside me.

I'm done wrestling the kids at church by myself.

I'm done with the heat.

I'm done with my husband and I living separate lives.

I'm done with headaches.

I'm done with not being able to walk when I get up from lying down/sitting.

I.  Am.  Done.

Ironically, the only thing that I'm not feeling over done with is the pregnancy.  It stinks not sleeping, but that's not going to change when baby comes.  I certainly have aches and pains, but he's actually very well contained in there and, for the time being, I am just fine with him hanging out in there.  Besides, I want to have this coming weekend with my husband and then want him to come back to visit.  I don't want to be jipped of that second visit.  Don't get me wrong, I have my moments when I am done, but for now, I will take the self-containment that is my womb.

However, I don't have the luxury of being done.  I don't have the luxury of throwing in the towel.  I have two precious kids that are depending on me; two precious kids that are gracious about my impatience.  I have two precious kids that count on me to get out of bed each day; two precious kids that count on me to bathe, dress, and nurture them.  I have two precious kids that get me to get up for church; two precious kids that are dependent on me to drive them to church and then train them how to sit properly in church.

They may not understand all of the stresses that make me act the way I do, but they love me regardless of my attitude, my tone, or my lack of energy.  They give me hugs and kisses at just the right time.  That makes it bearable for 5 more minutes.  The snuggles and giggles make things bearable for 5 more hours.  The excitement of this week with Cassie meeting her teacher and starting school will make things bearable for 5 more days.  That's all I have to make it this round...5 more days until my helpmeet/partner/best friend/love/biggest support holds me in his arms and tells me that we'll make it through.  As long as I don't think about his departure, I can make it through the week for the two precious kids, the precious, precious baby that I carry, and my husband who is working hard to turn things around for our family.

Five days until I get a recharge.

Five Days.