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4:34 PM A gorgeous day! I traded in my wool coat for a hooded sweatshirt, and walked a mile and 3/4. And thunk some thinks (as the birthday girl might say).
THE Question

Cerulean sky;
Snowdrops where once
snowblankets lay;
Is Spring coming?

A strip of blue against
the shore frames the
rotting ice.
Is Spring coming?

A susurration of
sparrows fills the
leafless bushes.
Is Spring coming?

The clear, crisp air is
pregnant with hope;
I question:
NOW is Spring coming?

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The conference was wonderful. We confirmed our committment to children; and my personal ministry to young parents was affirmed. Children were very involved in the conference, which was designed to help us find ways to fully include children in the life and work of the church.

I met many dedicated people who devote their energies to children. I sang wonderful songs, attended creative workshops (bought too many books), conversed with a wide diversity of people. Refreshing, uplifting, motivating. So why am I so tired?!

I've had Lyra on my mind all day. I remember so well the March 6th when she was born ("turn around and she's a young mom with babes of her own"). The night before, I had a doctor's appointment. It had snowed heavily, and I was afraid to try to get down the snow-covered stairs in the dark, so I decided to climb down the bank. Don't ask; I have no idea where my wits were.

Of course, with my bulging belly, I slipped and slid headfirst down the bank, and UNDER THE CAR! Now DB was playing volleyball, and my aunt couldn't hear my cries, so I was left to get my enormous self, that was facedown and wedged under the car, out of my predicament by myself. I tried backing out; quite a feat when your legs are still part way up the bank. I tried to pull my legs down so that I could turn myself sideways, which only wedged me more tightly under the car.

I tried the time-honored method of crying, but no one could hear me. I still do not remember exactly which of my maneuvers finally extricated me from my situation, but I finally was able to get to my knees, grab the door handle, and stand. I cried all the way to the doctor's, sure I had killed my baby and swearing that I WOULD kill DB when I got my hands on him. Was volleyball more important than taking very pregnant wife to the doctor's? (Obviously it was.)

The doctor assured me that the baby was fine, and I stopped at my aunt's for comfort and sustenance. This meant lots of cheese on crackers. During the night, that cheese made me very uncomfortable; in fact my tummy hurt right around to my back. By 6:00 a.m. I realized that baby was coming a week early. I called the doctor around 9:00 a.m., and he advised I get to the hospital. DB wanted to finish the cribbage game first. (Are you detecting a pattern here?)

Labor was surprisingly easy, and my beautiful baby girl was born around 5 p.m. She was, is, and always will be the delight of my life.

I did have two boy delights later, but she was my first and the one who taught me everything I know about children. Thank you, Lyra, and happy birthday.

I leave for SF tomorrow, so I may not be back on these pages until next Monday night. Then, again, I may sneak some time on Big Son's computer to check in and post an entry sometime during the week. Have a good week; I will.

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