I know Ra is currently reading the series, and I plan to pick it up soon, but I agree with this editorial: The Golden Compass is meant to get wheels turning, NOT to “kill God”.

The Boy’s stepfather, K, has come to pick him up from the house.  K is a wonderful man that we both adore.. with a glorious sense of humor.  Thank God.

K: So, lil missy, how you feelin’?

Me: Oh, ready to have this kid. 

K: Yeah, you look tired.

Me: It’s the contractions.  They’re exhausting, but don’t seem to be too productive.  At least he’s moving around.

The Boy: Yeah, he’s trying to find the hole.

..

K: Well, THAT’S new.

You KNOW it’s a desperate time when you read how the doctor breaks your water (”a device shaped like a crochet hook is inserted into the cervix”), and you start wondering.. what SIZE crochet hook?  You think Walmart has any on sale? 

Needless to say, I have not had the baby yet.  The cruelest trick is that, around 37-38 weeks, you feel SPECTACULAR.  You’re sleeping better (or the lack of sleep doesn’t affect you as harshly), your body has found a balance of sorts, and you don’t mind being pregnant.  THEN you hit 39 weeks.  And everything s-u-u-c-k-s.  I haven’t had a night with more than 4 hours of sleep in a week.  Nausea and low-grade fevers are abounding.  And I think that my morale is a little low.

I am fortunate, however, to have amazing people surround me.  I had a helluva cheerleader voicemail from Nina, who delivered Ethan Eric last week, reminding me that I will get through it.. even if because there is no other option.  Steph brought by a fabulous dinner last night that included my fave craving: red velvet cake.  Ra is heading up my email tree so I don’t have to think about it.

In other news, I woke up to this happy message this morning: