My Wedding Day Ride

The whole affair was a pretty haphazard business. At my tender age, experience was dreadfully lacking. In a months' time I had graduated from high school, turned 18, bought a house and was about to be married. Still in the blush of my youth (batting eyelashes here), I had only witnessed one wedding ever. Ever. And it was only a month before my own. Not much help.

So much of it was patched-up and thrown together at the last minute that any original plans were long forgotten. The night before the wedding, when asked, "Where are the programs?", my answer of, "What are programs?" should have been a sign that all was not well in the planning department. After breaking into the church past midnight to create and print the programs (we had permission, but no keys), the next morning was nothing less than zany. All those visions of a leisurely breakfast saying goodbye to the family were not to be. Instead, folks were rushing hither and yon and the phone was ringing off the hook. When it was my turn to take a shower, things were just settling down a bit.

Stepping out of the shower, it was eerily quiet in the house as I realized I was the only one there. It seemed that everyone assumed that someone else was taking the bride to the church. Mr. Visionary had my car, and there were no other cars home. No one was answering the church phone, and those were the days before everyone five years old and over had their own cell phones. After a half hour of frantic and futile phone calls to find someone (anyone) to drive me to the church, I finally gave up. My best laid plans were long since wrecked, and my last minute I'll-Think-Myself-Out-Of-This-Bind efforts failed as well. I was down to, "Father, if you want me to be married today, you'll need to send me a ride," which is really where I should have started.

Mr. Visionary reminded me of this story this afternoon, as I was nervously trying to think myself out of another bind. My desire for a home birth this pregnancy was overruled by nature of it being twins. No midwife would attend a twin birth at our home, forty minutes from the closest hospital, and I wouldn't feel comfortable with it, either. However, a hospital birth requires planning in the area of childcare and transportation for the laboring woman (namely Me). Therein lies the rub.

Mr. Visionary works a minimum of an hour away from home four days a week. My midwife and OB have both instructed me not to mess around, and to expect a quick labor. My labors aren't terribly long anyway (usually six hours or way less), and twin labors are known for being much shorter than "normal". If I should labor while Mr. Visionary is at work, I will need someone to take me to the hospital and someone else to stay with the children. Both of these somebodies will need to be fairly close to where I live, which is a huge obstacle in itself- I don't have many friends that live close.

My worrier nature wants to remember that my labor with the Dreamer was just over two hours, that I am already dilated several centimeters, that my first childcare plan will not be available because of her having a boatload of company coming in this week, and that I cannot drive while in labor. That is just the beginning of my list. I can think of plenty more while laying awake timing contractions.

Back to the wedding day story. When I finally gave back to Yahweh the burden of deciding how it would all work out, it did. The phone rang, and some friends from out of town were calling to see if there was anything they could do. They picked me up, and the show went on... on time even.

Mr. Visionary reminds me that the same will happen in this situation -Yahweh will provide... and that it too, will be right on time.

Encouraging News

There are many factors to which I could attribute the good news: a healthy diet, plenty of rest, good hydration, those wonderful homemade vitamins, the blessing of midwifery care, or a host of other miscellaneous factors. My heart tells me, however that there is only one factor in the end. Yahweh has been merciful to me, and His grace is abundant.

Yesterday's ultrasound showed that our babies are 5lb 3oz, and 6lb 6 oz at 34.5 weeks. Do the math if you would like, or take my word that it is a lot of baby to be carrying around. At this stage, they usually put on about a half pound per week each, but I'm trying not to think of all that. Add in the extra two pounds for two placentas, and I don't wonder at my being so tired... or my walking like a duck... a barefooted duck on sharp gravel, even.

I am weary of waiting, but eager to have these babies "cook" as long as possible. When I am exhausted, and wanting labor to begin (but feeling guilty because it is too soon), the only comfort I have is knowing with a certainty that Yahweh is in control. I was reminded of this anew last night, as my sister in law was rushed to the hospital for an emergency c-section because of toxemia. He declared the end from the beginning, and He himself knit these little ones together in my womb.

The timing is all His. I was sure last night that I would have accidentally started labor because of stress, but it was not to be. You see, as I was resting, and looking out the window, a full sized black bear just walked by my window. While my boys were outside playing in the yard. I ran to the door, screamed for the boys, then almost fainted when they walked casually in mentioning that the bear was only 12 feet from them.

I don't have a lot of experience with bears (read that NONE), and never thought I'd need it where we live (we are not that rural, you know). But, as a shameless plug for homeschooling, my kids educated me after the fact that black bears aren't dangerous if you just stay out of their way. They found this out on their own just from reading all the field guides we have laying around. If they were in "school" all day, they never would have had time to educate themselves or their Mom on this important matter.

So, let the record show that I can now scratch off of the list black bears walking through the front yard as a possible means of starting labor. Now we know.

I'll keep you posted on any new developments... or anything else we can scratch off said list.

My sister in law & Me comparing belly sizes. She was 36 weeks here, and I was 32 weeks.

Bill & Tracy, Congratulations on a beautiful baby girl! You done good, Momma!

Quick Update

My best intentions keep getting overshadowed by either the size of my belly (which is measuring 47 cm.) or my lack of energy, which is why I haven't posted anything. My computer was also out of commission for a few weeks, but that is not a great excuse because I could have used Mr. Visionary's.

Anyway, I am at 34 weeks and counting. Counting contractions, counting trips to the potty, counting the minutes that go by while I lay wide awake at night trying to sleep... counting down the days.

All is well with Momma and the babies: weight is great, blood pressure is great, etc. I have an ultrasound tomorrow morning to check these little folks' weight, and I will update better afterwards. Really. I will... if Yahweh wills it and the creeks don't rise.