Tender Day

I am feeling so tender today. Owen was a joy and he took all his clothes off in the sunshine outside and I got out the biggest pot I have and let him fill it up with water from the hose and he had such a good time in it.
"I love this bath!" he said.
I remember when I used to do the same for Hank, when he was a sproutling, although I had to fill the canning kettle with water from the hand pump. I had no running water then.
Same result. Happy babies.

I am feeling like Lily's baby is going to come soon. Now, by soon, I am not sure exactly what that means, but it won't be too much longer. She went to work this morning, cheerful and happy and by break time, she was ready to go home. She is having cramps, she is feeling "off." I told her GO HOME! I told her to lay down, to rest. If she is in labor, her body will continue its work uninhibited and will be able to do what it is ready to do.
Labor is a process and is hardly ever like it is in the movies where the water breaks and chaos ensues and contractions begin long and hard and before you know it, someone is delivering in a car.
Sometimes the body has to coordinate itself between uterus and cervix, get a pattern going, a working-together. Often, in fact.

Well. We shall see. Telling my daughter to rest is good advice whether labor is beginning or whether it isn't. She is nine months pregnant and she needs to have these last few days with her husband, her son, the three of them together to get ready to welcome a new love into their hearts. There was a bittersweetness for me today with Owen. I have taken care of him now for almost two and a half years and it has been the most precious time I could imagine. I am quite certain I will be taking care of just him again but this part of our lives together is almost at an end. I feel like it has been the greatest honor of my life to be able to tend this boy, to get to know him so well and so easily, to watch him grow, to become a walking, talking person, to remember the baby in my arms he once was.

This is the sweetness of life. This is the rich, honeyed joy of it. When we laid down to nap today, I could hardly bear the way he turned his back to me to rub it. The way he said, "Peep," which is the story I tell him, which he knows will put him to sleep, the trust he has in my hands, my words, my care.

And it has been so wonderful, this experience for Lily so far with this coming-baby. I remember when she was pregnant with Owen and how many ultrasounds they did and how that doctor kept chastening her to go ahead and get induced because her baby was getting too big, how her due date loomed and then passed, with no signs of labor beginning and how she must have felt there was something wrong with her body when really, nature was only taking its time and how that process should have been allowed to proceed on its own. This time, there is a calm peace about it. There is a sense that all is well.

She can go home and rest. Her midwife is ready, her husband is ready, her mother and sisters are ready. We are ready for when she and the baby are ready because I do believe they work in tandem, the two bodies so closely and mysteriously and miraculously connected.

Well. It continues to be a beautiful day. I am going to tidy things up around here. Maybe work in the garden some, mulching. We are waiting but we are not impatient. Jessie is trying to get off work tonight so she can begin the drive down. Why not? If she is early, good. If labor is beginning, she wants to be here and her sister wants her here.

All right. Thank all of you so much who come here and keep up with us. Some of you remember when Owen was born. I think about that and how people from literally all over the world were waiting for that boy along with us. I felt you all then. I feel you all now.
I am humbled for the support and love you give us.

Okay! On we go. I'll let you know how things unfold. You know I will.

Love to all.

Me