I talked to God while I got ready for the day. I would drop off Scrunch at pre-school, then drop off her carseat at the friend's who'd be picking her up, then go home and bathe Porkchop, and take him to his follow up with Dr. Gere. Easy enough.
And as I got ready to head out I remembered how much I did not miss heading down to see Dr. Gere every week since Porkchop was 16 days old. I remembered pumping in the car. Good glory how I hated pumping. I scheduled him another follow up and an audiogram and was so relieved that this would just be a quick follow up. He would do a fitting of the appliance and maybe take a new impression and we would come home and pick up Scrunch. Man, I'm tired. Ugh, I hate appointments. Which reminds me, I need to schedule him a speech eval. I told God all of this in my bathroom and I cut a deal. Please, please, please can this next baby be boring? No court dates, home visits, drs. appts, or surgeries. Can next year be boring, boring, boring?
On the way home, we talked again in the car. My side of the conversations went like this...
"DID YOU NOT HEAR A THING I SAID?!?!"
And it was quiet. He heard me, but has other plans.
I had four milestones that needed to be met.
And then I could have this baby.
Now, I will be adding my husband leaving the country and the biggest, baddest of them so far- surgery for Porkchop. Because who doesn't want to put their 18 month old in arm restraints and syringe feed them for two weeks just weeks before giving birth?
What would I do with boring anyway?
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