Tomorrow is the day.  Joel will be done with his “own” jobs for December (pray for some January business for us!) and from there on out he can work for his brother which would allow him to simply walk off the job should he get “the call.”

“The call” feels right around the corner.  I can not get up and walk across the room without having the most intense Braxton Hicks contractions – yo!  They don’t “hurt” but I have had to stop mid-walk and let them pass a few times.
In the last few days my heartburn has gone bonkers and it’s about time to call it Heart Hades it hurts so bad I find myself gasping for breath.  I am assuming that is because Le Deuxieme has sprouted some more in size.  Midwife Sarah puts “him” at 6.5 pounds – last week that is.  She says I will deliver a 8-8.5 pound baby.  So much for enjoying those teeny weeny clothes for a few weeks.  Putting little clothes away, never to be worn again makes me sob when I do laundry.  It can be a 3 month old Onsie or 24 month old overalls.  Time goes too fast.
Heaven forbid someone call my newborn a “big boy” or “big girl.”  I ripped off a lot of heads when Aidan was a baby.  I never understood the need to verbally rush their growing up.  I have years to call Aidan a “big boy.”  He was…IS my BABY!
I am already getting the talks about “are you sure you want more than two?”  and I suppose with all the bitching I have done in the last sixty days that could be considered a valid questions but my goodness… I want memories of cramming a car full of kids to go to church and the farm, I want to open my arms and have them fill with little beings that I can nurture and I want grandchildren!!!  What are the odds of having lots of grandkids if you only have two children?  It never fails, you pop one out and people want to know when you are going to or IF you are going to have another one.  But let’s stick with the plan here for now – the Bible says you are blessed if your “quiver is full” and two doesn’t sounds very full.  Joel and I would like to believe we will go wherever God takes us.  I have always said, “at least three.”
In the meantime.  Things are a changing “down there”…I hate to even say something like that – watch now I will go another  2 weeks – but hey – that would put me right on schedule wouldn’t it???
I have all my gear in the room – sheets, towels, the tri-pod.  We are very excited about trying for another Home Birth and Sarah says she thinks everything will go great.  I hated the doctor we had at the house the last time and she is convinced that is half the reason I took so long (17 hours at home, 28 hours total!)  Anyways, I have a few more loads of laundry to do and Domestic Diva Aunt Ruth is coming to help me clean tomorrow (which on account of the Braxtons is VERY WELCOME now that I have set my pride aside…if you saw her clean/organized house you would understand the pride thing).  Mom came again on Monday and helped me make 100 trips up and down the hallway putting the last of the stragglers away from the move back into the big room (photos coming)…
This Saturday sounds good to me.