Today the little lady and I decided to lay low and take it easy. I kept her home from school because everywhere I look, someone has the flu. If there's anything I can do to keep her healthy to meet her baby brother, I have to do it! Here's a little portion of our Target trip today.
Nice Lady: Whoa! You must be ready!
Me: Yup! Almost. 5 more days!
Nice Lady: Ohmygoodness. Are you having two?
Me: Nope. Just one big boy! Almost 10 pounds.
Checkout Girl: Is he heavy??
Me: I guess so.
Nice Lady: Has he dropped yet?
Me: Hmmm...I don't think so. He's laying sideways. (I point to his head and feet across my belly.)
Checkout Girl: Oh yeah. I can tell!
Nice Lady: Ten pounds?
Me: Yup! Oh, and I'm really only 38 weeks pregnant.
Nice Lady: GASP. Well, good luck!
When I get into a conversation like this, for some reason, part of me feels like I should explain Sam's story. That his birth on Tuesday probably won't be a run-of-the-mill baby birth. That we might not get to have him stay in our room. And I might not get to nurse him for weeks. But then the other part of me thinks, well, for one, strangers in Target don't need all that information, and it doesn't really matter anyway. Tuesday will still be Sam's BIRTHDAY! We will celebrate him no matter what. And we can't wait.
All I really know is that tomorrow when I wake up I can say, "Four days til Baby Sam!" And that will be music to my ears.
I am still praying to God to heal our baby boy. I would love to proclaim a miracle when Baby Sam is born healthy and strong and the doctor's can't explain it.