The Number Field

We never thought it would come to this. Moonbeam has apparently decided to hold on for as long as we'll let him. I think that if we were back in Texas with the doctor that delivered Elena, she wouldn't have let this pregnancy go so far, but we trust that our current doctors know what they're doing. In just a little bit less than sixty hours we'll check into the hospital to have labor induced.

Tomorrow we have one last doctor's visit. We're not sure how long it will take, so Elena will spend the morning with a family that graciously agreed to watch her. The appointment is early, but the mom in whose care we're leaving her said it would be fine if Elena's still in pajamas when we hand her off.

The appointment will include some standard diagnostic procedures to make sure everything is okay: a sonogram to check fluid levels and the health of the placenta, a non-stress test to check Moonbeam's movement, heart rate, and oxygen levels, and the standard doctor's exam. It's a remote possibility that the doctor will send us directly to the hospital, so we'll take our bags with us to make sure that doesn't happen.

Assuming they send us back home, we'll have a quiet Thursday. In the evening we'll hand Elena off to my parents, who will watch her until we return from the hospital, then try to get some sleep before the big day. And that's about the only thing we have on our minds right now. Everyone at work has already been wishing me good luck every evening and acting disappointed every morning for more than a week now. I guess they can tell that I'm ready. I can see that Jenny's ready. Tomorrow we'll find out if Moonbeam's ready, too.