Monday, February 8, 2010

Full disclosure, the lost art of prophecy, and a status non-report

What 30" of snow plowed looks like.

I haven't told you everything.

Is that fair? I've been typing on my phone for so many days and telling an extended story felt so complicated. Let's get comfy now and make amends.

My due date came on Friday. The snow came on Friday. We thought, based on a visit to the doctor on Thursday, that the baby would come on Friday.

(Please note: this appears to be one stubborn baby.)

We were worried about being stuck at home and having transport the girls to a friends' house before taking me to the hospital. In a blizzard. So we all left; we moved in with those friends.

Then the storm came. The power went. The baby didn't come.

Did we do the right thing?

Then the power came. The plow came. The baby didn't come.

It's Monday and we haven't been home since Friday. Still no baby.  But he has to be coming at some point, right? And we can get out of this neighborhood. And the girls are happy here. And the plow hasn't gotten to our own street yet. 

If we were home we would have had power all weekend; but we'd still be stuck in the house behind almost three feet of snow.  We think we did the right thing.

(Now tell the baby he can come.)


A long time ago there was a little boy who looked at my belly, rounded with my first pregnancy, and announced without being asked that he knew the name for our baby. "I think you should name her E," he said without fanfare but with certainty. We said nothing but we looked at each other in puzzlement, because, of course, that was exactly what we'd decided to name her.

And so it was spoken; and so it shall be. And there is a little girl named E.

Two days ago that same boy, now as tall as my chin, he looked at my belly and spoke again. "I think you should name your baby Seth."

Alas, his talents have left him along with his baby cheeks and corkscrew curls, for though it was spoken, it is not to be. This boy is destined to have a different name. But let's honor his legacy and his efforts. The boy's family's name begins with 'S,' and we've made their home our home, so let's call them the Seths.


We're not sure what would be the best thing to do next, so for now we're staying. We could drive to within one street of our home and walk the distance through the unplowed accumulation.  But what if the baby comes? When is the baby coming?

How is the baby doing? There were good reasons for wanting him born a week ahead of his due date; he's now half a week past his due date. But I can't tell you anything; my doctor's office had to stay closed today because of weather-related complications.

Maybe I'll be seen tomorrow. Maybe by tomorrow my neighbors-on-alert will let us know our street is clear. Maybe I'll go into labor tomorrow?

Did I mention that we're supposed to get as much as 20 more inches of snow tomorrow?

For now, we're all staying put. Baby included, I guess. Sometimes maybe stubborn isn't such a bad thing.

(Watch him defy me on that, too.)

 Does anybody want to go play on the swings? Pin It