For Ben

I know these last few weeks haven't been easy on you. At nine months pregnant, I'm a hormonal mess. I cry at the drop of the hat, grumble constantly about how uncomfortable I am, and lose my temper in a fraction of a second. I get so frustrated with you sometimes. You don't say the right things, you need to be nicer, blah, blah, blah. The truth is you're not doing anything wrong. I'm frustrated with everyone. But as my partner, you bear the brunt of my mood swings. I'm sorry for that.

I don't feel like myself anymore. And as hard as that is for me, it must be equally as hard for you. Who is this person? What did she do with my wife? After my meltdown last night, I expected you and Stella to be half way to Canada by the time I got home. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

I want you to know you're a wonderful partner. You make me laugh. You tell me I'm beautiful. You make me dinner when I'm exausted from working all day. You move at a snail's pace so I can join you and Stella on an evening walk. You remind me to put my feet up and drink plenty of water. You offer to drive to Pick 'N Save at 9:30 at night to get me rice pudding with raisins. You rub my back when I'm falling asleep. You kiss me like you mean it. And you love me unconditionally. Even this swollen, irritable, gigantic version of me. And that says a lot.

We're in the home stretch now. I love you so much.