Not Coming On Christmas

The contractions started at two. They just kept coming. Not strong, but there. We counted and hoped and they progressed enough that we started to think about how in the world we would pull off Christmas morning if we were at the hospital having a baby. It didn't look right. The contractions stopped. Our baby would not be coming on Christmas. We had Christmas morning. Always so sweet. Dizzy with exhaustion, we tagged teamed naps and enjoyed the glorious sunshine after heavy cloudy rainy days and resumed waiting.

We kept waiting. We had our traditional gingerbread house destruction, played soccer, went for walks, read the Hobbit. We waited.  Baby would have to come soon, but I was wearing out of the wait and the children were coming up with all sorts of creative ways to pass the time. It wasn't what I figured it would be. Another baby days past that magical due date that isn't magical at all.






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