I.  Am.  Terrible.  At it.

But sit, I must.  I listen to this creaky old house sing to me under the duress of a fierce country breeze.  I sip my coffee, drawing in every earthy note of flavor.  I sit here in the still of the morning, before first streams of light, before the pitter patter of little feet coming down the stairs, before the bustling day begins, and I ponder.  

Lots of things.  

Funny how things can change so fast.

Little more than a week ago, The Man and I went for our ultrasound.  The big one.  And you’ll never believe it, but we will be welcoming another sweet little princess to our home.  I cannot tell you how thrilled we are.  I guess God thinks that we are starting to get the hang of it by now.  The Man is positively glowing and I am beside-myself-giddy.

But we also found out something else, a fairly serious complication that I wasn’t expecting.  It’s something called a complete previa.  The doctor said it would probably cause problems later on in the pregnancy and I would have to deliver by c-section.  New territory, but I figured we’d cross that bridge when we got there.  A few short days later, I was admitted to the hospital for problems already.  I was reluctantly released from the hospital under strict doctor’s orders.  (And when I arrived home, The Man had a lovely fresh cup of chocolate coffee waiting for me.  How is that for love?)

Take.  It.  Easy.  (Ha!)

Things wouldn’t be such a concern, except that I now have a condition that could cause a life-threatening hemorrhage at a moment’s notice and I live a daunting ninety minutes from the big city hospital that is equipped to deal with that.  (Hello, Country Living!)  So as much as I adore living in the middle of nowhere, right now… not so much.

Another admission or two to the hospital and my doctor is ordering me to stay in the big city until delivery time.  Away from my lovely little family.  *sigh*

Thank God for devoted friends who are stepping into help me “take it easy.”  Bringing meals.  Helping me clean.  Directing the Christmas kids’ musical in my stead.  I am even more terrible at letting people help me.  But I’m trying to let my control-freakness go.  

Honestly, I am pretty much going berserk.  It’s the holiday season.  I should be baking pies like mad, crafting to my heart’s content, and decorating til the cows come home.   And Ladybug’s birthday party this weekend?  Her much-anticipated homemade pinata will now be store-bought.  I suppose in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.  Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

But here, I sit.  Awaiting the “official” bed rest order that is surely in my future.  I fully intend to not re-enter that hospital until at least February, with admission to the delivery side of the floor, not the bed rest side.  

I’ll try to keep up here.  But my schedule is now strewn with even more doctor visits.  Theoretically, I should have even more time to blog… but we’ll see how that goes.

I covet your prayers.

“You will keep in perfect peace
    him whose mind is steadfast,
    because he trusts in you.”

Isaiah 26.3 

Love & Coffee.