Beatrix? In time for Easter???

Well, the midwife said today that her guess is within the next week.

Not that anyone can really predict it, I guess. On the way home from the doctor's I was so exhausted and tired of Elspeth's feet in my back (kicking my seat the whole way) that I just LOST IT. I spent the ride hunched over my huge uterus, crying down at my feet to the sound track of annoying 1970's music with unbelievably repetitive choruses.

Martin was in a frenzy to get to his night class, for which he was unprepared, I felt overwhelmed by the looming responsibility of getting the girls in bed another night by myself when my ligaments MOAN. . .and then we reached home. Oddly and unexpectedly, the evening mellowed. The girls were content and I weathered a few contractions in relative bliss, eyes closed, head back. . .and from there the night flowed along smoothly, and now here I am, toothbrush in mouth; the house is silent; I feel fine; and an early bedtime stands just within my grasp. Sadly I left my book in the car, and Martin is still out teaching, but there is plenty more to read in the house. There's a flood warning tonight, but our house sits high and the rain feels comforting speckling the windowpanes.

It feels hard to believe that soon another daughter will sleep in our house at night, but the reality of her arrival grows ever more imminent. I will be glad, though I always find the idea of another human joining us absolutely ludicrous and unimaginable until I find the solidness of a body in my arms, and then all is well and it seems ridiculous that our family was ever complete without the new one. I trust the same will be true for this little bird. . .and now there's nothing to do, really (except the long list of things I should, like unearth the baby clothes), but wait.