so.

It is a clear, sunny fall morning in Mississippi. I've had one cup of very good tea, I slept well, the dogs are walked, and the bebe in the belly is good. K got off to work on time with a packed lunch, looking all cute since he's decded to grow his annual scruff-beard. I've got a big goal today for the novel, and time to complete it in.

I've had this sense of having to put everything in order, to line all my ducks up, in these (less than 5!) weeks before Christmas.

Because after all, a baby is coming, whether I'm ready or not; no matter if my doctor supports natural child birth, or the house is clean, or the room is ready, or the novel is finished... a baby is coming, and I'm very conscious that I've got work to do to make sure she arrives into a happy and peaceful world.

So enough whining from me about Northern Mississippi's backward birthing model (I deleted my old rant, but let's just say that man, they make it hard to just have a baby down here). Enough complaining about the doctor I don't really like very much. Enough anxiety over whether I'm prepared for labor. Because when it comes down to it, the baby is coming, and I can choose to help her get here in a peaceful manner despite the ridiculousness of an external fetal monitor, or I can freak out and accuse everyone of not helping me enough.

Either way, the baby girl is arriving.