Its very quiet now, and a twilight 'grey dark' as A might say. Everyone has gone home and I am propped up in some hospital contraption bed with new baby G. So far she is not a delicate wilting rose flower. She has kind of a thick neck and lots of dark hair and an expression of entitlement. I can see why. Rowan, when visiting this afternoon, climbed on the bed and tried first to sit on her, and then to kick her, and then to poke her, each time thwarted, each time enraged.
Its going to be a loud week, I can tell, when I get home. Everyone shouting and trying to get a word in and be noticed AND assimilate this new interesting creature into our lives.
As for me, I'm very tired. But that's ok. Its something I'm used to.
Matt is very tired too. He has been busy all afternoon trying to arrange a funeral for someone we never got to meet. He called the funeral home,
'hello, Yes, I need to speak with a gentleman who passed away this morning, I can't remember his name.'
Silence on the other end of the phone. I shout the name quietly in Matt's ear.
'Oh yes, with ________________.'
Silence on the other end of the phone.
'Oh no, I mean, I need to speak with someone about ________ who passed away this morning.'
He, Matt, tried then to tell me he would sleep in this uncomfortable chair next to my bed tonight, but I told him he was ridiculous and sent him home. We all need a quiet night in a proper bed. Tomorrow there will be plenty of time to get to know this interesting little person.
As for me, I thank you all Very Much for your prayers over the last 24 hours. At 7 and some centimeters, as I wimped out and requested an epidural, and then burst into tears and had a good solid cry of fear while a very nice doctor put it in, I was profoundly buoyed by the love and grace and mercy of Jesus, and by my husband and mother who held my hands and told me that I was not, in fact, a wimp, and that I was going to be ok. And I know also that your prayers sustained me. Thank you.