A Pregnant Pause . . .

If you will forgive the pun . . .

So there we stood, barely teens - free to roam the amusement park for the first time without adult supervision. Our only instructions were to stay together, stay out of trouble (two things that often were mutually exclusive) and meet the "old-folk" for lunch at a preset time and place.

So what do a gang of hormone-driven teens do with their first taste of amusement-park freedom? Head to the biggest, baddest, meanest, newest roller coaster in the park, of course!

We stood in line coursing with nervous energy. Every 30 seconds or so we would hear the clacky-clack drum roll of the next car ascending the first hill - followed by a moment of silence and then the roar of steel on steel matched only by the screams of the passengers.

Geoff said that last weekend, a man who was 6' 7" had his head lopped off on the third turn because the ride was not designed for people that tall and if your restraining bar was not pushed down far enough, you might float off your seat and meet the same end - so you better duck on the third turn.

None of us believed him because Geoff was always saying things like that and anyway, his parents let him drink beer and he was the only kid we knew who smoked cigarettes and you can only trust someone like that so much . . . Even so, we all made a mental note - third turn, duck.

We bided our time joking and laughing and taunting and teasing and inching ever closer to our point of departure . . . Finally, we were in view of the loading zone. . .

Cars would return full of passengers - most of whom were breathlessly trying to collect themselves - their eyes bugged and watery, their hair resembling birds nests. The car would empty out and the new crop of victims would load up.

A handful of those who were taking the ride for the third or fourth time chattered away in excitement as they took their assigned seats but most of those who were first timers fell into an anxiety-filled silence as the ride operators cranked their restraining bars down.

And then *WHOOSH* - they careened off into oblivion.

We soon found ourselves toeing the yellow line - the next car would be ours and there was no turning back. For all our carousing and laughter during our time in line we fell uncharacteristically silent as our car approached, then emptied, and we stepped into our chosen fate.

The attendants came by and guided our restraining bars into place with a seemingly remarkable lack of concern for our personal well being. We all jammed down on our lap bars with the phrase "duck on the third turn" recycling in our heads. And with a lurch, we headed to our oblivion following all those who went before.

The fresh air was exhilarating after the perceived stuffiness of the loading pavillion and then the clacky-clack drum roll began to fill our heads. We were facing the sky and on our way - trying to enjoy the view and the fresh air and the ride we had waited so long for - while our knuckles turned white around the safety bars in front of us . . .

And that's about where we are.

I know I haven't been very original around here lately - most of my blogging has been to point at other people's blogging. . .

Annabelle's birthday is 13 days away and while we are trying to enjoy the view from the ride, the clacky-clacking is deafening and I find myself uncharacteristically silent.

Between the job / pay scale / insurance benefits changes of the past month or so, my best guess is that we will not have $$ for groceries after the 18th of August (so if you are staying with us those last two weeks - pack a cooler!).

It is what it is. We are going to continue putting one foot in front of the other and doing everything we know how. God's going to have to pick up the slack I guess.

So that is the latest. The C-section is scheduled for Monday the 18th. I will figure out a way to keep everyone posted on progress throughout the big day.

Thank you for your continued prayers - they mean more than you know.

And remember - duck on the third turn (just in case) . . .