okay......

So having a four week old is much like having a bad case of diarrhea in the respect that you have just enough time in between feedings to do absolutely nothing. Hence why there haven't been any updates from me as of late. But we are doing well. Noah is a great baby, he lets me sleep a few hours at night and is not really all that uoset about anything. He is a fairly content child. However that still makes me his slave for the next 18 years of life. It's worth it.

And for those of you out there, the saying, "It's different when it's your own child." is completely true. Midnight feedings are not as bad when you made the thing your feeding. Plus having a cute face doesn't hurt. Anyway. I'll leave you all with pictures as my head is slowly dropping and my face is falling off from a lack of sleep.
Noah and Aunty T

Noah and Opoo making faces

My bobble headed boy.

Catching up (part dou)

(WARNING: IF YOU HAVENT READ THE PREVIOUS BLOG "Catching up...but definitely not on sleep", THE JOKES CONTAINED HEREIN WILL BE SHALLOW AND STUPID. THAT BEING SAID, THE JOKES HEREIN WILL PROBABLY BE SHALLOW AND STUPID ANYWAY BUT FOR THOSE FEW PEOPLE WHO DO READ THIS AND CHUCKLE, A COMMENT WOULD BE MUCH APPRECIATED TO HELP MASSAGE THE EGO OF THIS BLOG WRITING AMATUER.)


The hospital room was bustling with testosterone and masculine pheromones for the new life that had emerged only moments before. Noah was chilling out in the baby incubator glass container posing for the next issue of GQ. The nurse called me over because she had heard me count from 1 to 10 for the last 2 hours and had me use my skills to verify digits of our little burrito. I was remotely disheartened to find that he didnt have his father's extra 11th finger but was relieved to see that he did get his mothers webbed toes. (Neither of the last two statements are true.) He was awake and staring down the nurse with her cold instruments poking and prodding him with a cynical and angry expression on his face. The next thing that happened will scare me for the rest of my life, he turned his wobbly head toward me and pointed his right index finger right at me and opened his eyes extra wide. The look he gave me was almost accusatory as if he was saying, "You just wait.....you'll get yours. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day you will be lying naked in a glass container with people snapping pictures of you, *snap*, mocking your cry and rubbing cold metal objects on your chest and I will just stand over you and laugh." I think he was just mad that I emasculated him by cutting his umbilical cord ( a very clean and easy process in all, not nearly as disgusting as I expected.)

I decided it was a good time to go check on the wife, so I left the quivering ball of skin and turned around to face a bowl full of vomit inducing unhappiness. (For those of you who are queasy, skip ahead.) Prior to the birth, I had told Crystal that the one thing I would least like to see is the placenta. The doctor decided that she wanted to leave it in a cereal bowl in the middle of a table as if saving it for later. Traci (the nurse) and I had joked around about religious beliefs and how they would coincide with this whole birth process. I told her we were of the religious perspective that feels it necessary to, (how to put this politely), indulge in the life giving sack that my wife had just passed. (Yes it is true that some people actually do eat the placenta). When the conversation was being had earlier in the day, I thought that I had made it very clear that we were joking, but looking at the veiny bloody matter, I feared that Traci would pull out a blender any moment and hit "puree". I simply lifted a hand and blocked the bowl from my view as I meandered around the bed to Crystal's side.

She was laying back smiling, enjoying our son's induction to the cold cruelness that is this world. We watched from a distance as Noah was moved from the incubator to the scale and roll from side to side trying his best to make things that much more difficult for the nurse. Eventually she put her hand on his side to hold him still and he saw his chance to spring free. He grabbed the edge of the scale and nearly rolled out. (Check out the picture : sdgphotography.blogspot.com) Im on my tip toes trying to watch the numbers go up when the doctors calls out "T.O.B. 22:03". I turn to Crys and I say, "Thats 10:03."
She turns to me incredulous and says, "TEN POUNDS?!!"
Me and the doctor laugh and I say, "No, his time of birth is 10:03....military time is 22:03." The doc says, "He weighs 7, 10." (Now, I was expecting my kid to come out wearing shoulder pads and screaming "send me in coach." Nearly 6 weeks earlier the ultrasound said that he was a VERY LARGE 5 and a half pounds. The pregnancy math says that for the last 5 weeks the kid will gain anywhere from half to a full pound per week. In other words, I got gipped! Crystal said that he was "big enough" and we have left it at that. The nurse inked up his feet for the birth certificate then had papa lean in with his scrubs on and stamp the chest pockets with his little imprint. I told Crys that I would run out and let the stalkers know that everything was ok and then I would be right back.

So Mama, Papa and Burrito were put together on the bed and we were given the opportunity for a little prayer time. The kid was calm and started flirting and cooing at anybody that would get near enough. The funny thing is that all this happened within the first 3 minutes of him being born. The doc smiles at us and says congratulations with that "You Owe Me $13,000" smile. The next thing we know the door has burst open and in floods a sea of tearful women. There are shrieks of glee, and awwwws and a plethora of shallow comments that one would hear whilst following a group of pre-teens through an Ambercrombie and Fitch store:
"Oh, he is so cute!"
"I want one."
"I just want to kiss his little face off."
"Is this sweater on clearance?" ( I couldnt help myself )
I get to sit back and watch them pass around my little midget as the men start coming in. My brother pats me on the back and me and my dad shake hands. "You're a father."
"The Ferrell name shall live on!"
People lingered for a bit and talked about this and that. I mostly just sat back and watched and waited patiently to pass out. Crystal has said that she would much rather be the one delivering the baby than the one who has to watch the spouse go through that pain. Well, I was dead tired just watching and she was dead tired for some other reason and so the fam started to head out due to prompting from the nurse. Crys and I had that cliche moment where we looked at each other and said, "Now what?" I prepped my pull out bed chair from Satan's home and shopping network and asked Crystal to pass me the phone so that I could call room service to scan her preferred card for a memory foam bed. (In all actuality, the bed wasnt that bad. It did pull out to a reasonable length for any 4 foot tall husband whom is used to sleeping on a file cabinet.) ***(Not my best description, but give me break, still trying to get back into the swing of things.)
Too our luck, our nurse had to change shifts again so we met the next wave of interesting people. By now it was about midnight and in walks the nurse to discuss Newton's 2nd law (an object at rest remains at rest, an object in motion.....constant velocity..unexpected force.. blah blah) with me. I politely explain that the door was shut and the lights were off for a reason. She gives Crystal another plastic bag full of water *click* and rolls Noah out of the room to get him tagged like a stranded whale.
I have to speak for a moment on the security precautions that Delnor takes to keep their babies safe. Crys and I both get a little piece of paper wrapped around our wrists that seem innocent enough, but oh no, thats how they trick you. Noah gets a plastic jaws of life clamp that attaches to him from a hoop around his foot. The hospital pays someone millions of dollars to sit in a room and just watch the little red dot being transmitted from our bands move around the hospital, if by chance, you get too close to a door exiting the ward, the man in the room will give you an electric shock of 10,000 volts. If you feel like trying your luck and just sprinting to a door and running out with a baby, the little clip detaches from around babies foot and acts as a hand grenade pin. You have approximately 8 seconds to return to the maternity ward or your wristband will detonate with the power of 2 bricks of C4 dynamite. (Now I know what you are thinking....how does the baby survive the blast? Thats the amazing part! The fluids and whatnot from the delivery actually act as a solvent that turn the fiery blast into a whisk of lavender and lilac scents that carry the baby gently to the ground. I didnt believe it either until I saw some overly excited father bringing his newborn out to the family car. Poor sap, didnt even know what hit him.) But seriously, the people there are very protective of parents walking near doorways. Skipping ahead for just a moment....Crystal had to have a test done that next Tuesday while in the post labor room so I thought instead of kicking all of the people out of the room to wait, I would bring Noah into the hallway. There was a posse of 6 of us standing around me holding him just outside our door. A little 4 foot tall nurse comes scampering over freaking out that I didnt have him in his crib.
"I dont mind holding him." I said.
"Well, Delnor doesnt allow newborns to carried outside of the room for fear that someone could come up, grab them and run off." (THIS IS COMPLETELY SERIOUS! ASK MY DAD)
"And you think it would be easier for that person to do so if the babies father is holding him surrounded by a group of people?"
"It isnt permitted. If you want to walk the halls, he will have to be in a crib."
Well excuse the heck out of me. I would think that crib theivery would be easier than getting in a fist fight with me and 6 other family members. Anyway, lets move on.

My cell phone clock says 1:02 am, Crystal and I are pretending to be asleep in hopes of fooling our brains that we actually got some rest. The nurse comes in again wheeling Noah back to us just to say that our credit card had been declined and that we would have to leave the room. I start hauling all of our stuff into our few bags and grab Noah's crib cart to wheel him out into the hallway. (I learned my lesson from the troll nurse) They decided we would like the view better at the front of the maternity ward to recoup from the long day. The receiving room was similar to the delivery room except it was a little longer, less doo dadds to play around with and sadly....no mirror. I asked our nurse if we could get one *clicked to our tab and she obviously didnt either understand the joke or think that I was even a little funny. So she stays just long enough to say, "the equation's solution to the polynomial can be found by getting the sum of the squares of both sides." Then she leaves. Why they felt that we should move to recoup at 1 in the morning beats me, I would have preferred to just sleep where I was without the interruptions.

So anyway, we get our stuff laid out for 3 seconds, climb into bed, kiss the midget goodnight and turn off the lights when another nurse slides in to ask Crystal what her level of pain is. I dont remember what exactly Crystal said to the nurse but I do remember watching the EMT's come in to escort the body of the beaten nurse to the O.R. (We just wanted to sleep!) The nursery had to come in and pull Noah out again to verify his x-ray vision and super sonic hearing. He passed with flying colors and they speculated that he would gain his super human strength sometime in his pre-pubescent years.

Crys and I slept for an hour or 2 and they wheeled him back in for a feeding. It was awkward to watch another man kiss on my wife like that but Crystal assured me that it was simply an innocent fling and that it wouldnt happen again. I fell back asleep and woke up again to the whine cry of Mr. Magoo (Crystal's nickname for him). We tried to employ some of the "Baby-Wise" book and let him release the energy to pass out again but I guess he was still hungry. He stole my wife again.

The nurse came in around 7 am to take Noah to get circumcised. I wasnt exactly giddy about the pain he would go through but I figured he would thank me one day. Mom was tearful for her baby boy so we just sat together and I held her. He came back in about 20 minutes later and was passed out. I joked with Crystal that the nurse told me he broke the knife but the timing wasnt right. (She laughs about it now)

The next day was similar to the previous except that the kid was out. People came in to visit, leave gifts, flowers, cards, all that hoopla. I tried telling Noah not to accept anything because these were all belated birthday gifts and that he should act angry and hold it over their heads for a REALLY GOOD GIFT but he seemed content with all the attention. The nurse popped her head back in, "Jewel Osco'd " some pills for the wife and tried to make more small talk. Papa jumped online and checked Rosie's blog and saw that she had ALREADY put up pictures from the previous night. Rosie, I hope you got a fat check from my family members to get those pics up that fast because that is just ridiculous. (Very much appreciated, but ridiculous) I went about emailing friends and family giving the scoop and then chilled out and read a book.

Crys and I slept intermittently throughout the day when we got a chance and weren't interrupted. The day didnt bring us anything too over the top, we just enjoyed the visits and rested up. Papa made a "special request" to the cafeteria for their "homemade milkshake" and was sadly disappointed. There was very little milk, even less shake and after killing off half of it, a light went on in my brain saying....."hmmmmm......you know what Jordan......this doesnt taste like a milkshake." I popped the cap on it and look down into a cup full of......pudding. Crystal enjoyed her grilled cheese, Noah got a good fill of milk and papa sat back and waited for his mama to bring some homemade mostacholi.

That night it snowed something fierce. We got something like 5 inches. They kept us overnight again and did the most wonderful thing in the world. The offered a "nursery night" for the kid wherein he got to be babysat all evening so Mama and Papa could get some sleep. Woot! We missed the kid by 6 a.m. so we got him back. That morning the nurse helped us scoot along and pack up to leave the hospital. Papa went outside in his slippers (cause he is a dork) and got the car seat into place, scraped ice off the windows and warmed up the car. The actual leaving wasnt anything too terribly special. I was actually expecting a little more. A small musical number with a parade of babies doing synchronized swimming movement in their cribs. We just got his jaws of death clamp removed from his foot, said "piece out" to the receptionist up front and got into the car to go home. You'll be glad to know that the wristbands that we were wearing as we left didnt explode but simply left a faint hint of urine and poopy butt......or maybe it was just the midget in the back seat.

Catching up....but definitely not on sleep.

OooooooooooooooK!. We get it, you want us to update. Sadly, Crystal is slightly preoccupied with our little burrito, so I will have to fill you in on the schpeel. Crystal's was sleeping rather uncomfortably early Monday morning when she began to feel cramping similar to those of the monthly visitor. She dismissed it as regular aches and pains and got up to go to the bathroom. I had already left for work at 5:45 and was a good 40 minutes away. (In an attempt to not be too graphic.....) things get wet from there. She claims that it "wasnt quite like going to the bathroom because there is a lack of control" but for you movie buffs out there, it certainly wasnt a re-creation of Jane Curtain's scene from Coneheads. Needless to say, she was shocked and excited and called me to ask, "How would you feel if you didn't go to work today?"
"Are you serious? I'm turning around right now."
She seemed reasonably calm and started making calls to people to let them know that everything was beginning to go down. I got home and she was prettying herself up for her long day. Check out some of the pictures from the other blogs (sdgphotography.blogspot.com, talithaamber.blogspot.com) she was a good looking delivering lady. Her mascara didnt even run the whole time. Anyway, we lingered around at home for a bit and left for the hospital at 7:30ish.
The whole process of getting in to our delivery room was extremely easy. It puts all those sitcoms with the pregnant couple trying to deal with the front desk and whatnot to shame. By the by, Crys and I were impressed with the room at Provena for Moriah and Josh but this room was very inviting. It was overly spacious, had a nice pull out bed from a chair, nice t.v. with cable, pretty much the works. The highlight of the whole room was the overbearing mirror that sat hanging from the ceiling parallel to the delivery bed. If you dont know what it is there for... ask your mother. Anyway, the first thing that Crys and I commented about the mirror is that the hospital had put a large picture on the front of the mirror, (in case the mother didn't want to watch), that looked eerily like a picture that Mo and Josh have at their house. Spooky no? One way to save the memories I guess.
We got "comfortable", popped in an episode of Friends and was rudely interrupted by a nurse who wanted to make sure that Crys had seriously dropped her water. Again, in another attempt to not be too graphic, she used a little strip of paper that changes color. Sadly, she wasnt happy with the dark blue that it turned into. She wanted a pitch black blue with little purple polka dots and smiley faces that sing songs to you and she wouldn't be content with a dark navy blue with elves that tell the whole Lord of the Rings story that Crystal had produced. (By the by, that was an exaggeration). She tried the test twice and finally decided to use a little cup that also changed colors. She told us that it would take 5 to 10 minutes. We waited in the room staring at the little cup waiting for the color change. We began to get annoyed at the fact that she was POSITIVE that her water had broke and she was certain that this nurse was simply being anal. She came back at 5 minutes and it still wasnt any better, but finally at 10 minutes she smiled and said, "Your pregnant!" Woot. What a relief Captain Obvious.
And so began our lovely long day. The nurse asked what her level of pain was on a scale of 1 to 10...1 being minor discomfort (like a dwarf calling you a bad name) and 10 being excruciating pain (like, and I quote, "Getting your arm torn off from a car door"). She said she as at a 2. The nurse adjusted some switches and then left. Crys' contractions came on pretty regularly, and thank God for the machine by the bed that helps track them. The worrying husband can hold his wife and give her a heads up on the intensity of contractions. According the level that Crys told the nurse, the contractions are monitored on a level of 1 to 14. When she is normal and just kind of chillin (still uncomfortable mind you) she is at a 2 (as per her earlier questioning). The contractions came on and by 10 am she was reaching a 6 every 4 minutes or so. The nurse would pop in, make some random comment about the density of a ping pong ball and then leave. The fam came in and out throughout the day and we played some uno just long enough to remember how to properly play when a doctor came in and wanted to see how Crys was progressing. Nearly 2 cm. It was almost noon and she was only getting more uncomfortable. The doc decided that she would finish breaking her water for her because it was a "high break". (Yeah, exactly, I have no idea what that means either but I just smiled and acted like if she needed me too I could scrub up and help her do brain surgery next door.) Up until here, Stal was handling it pretty well as it simply seemed like she had a bad tummy ache but watching this doctor tear the rest of her water bag was pretty rough, even for me. (Just saying "tear the water bag" kind of makes me want to cross my legs crawl into a heap and weep.)
We sampled the delicacy that is the Delnor cafeteria and found it to be just what we expected. They do have a "Garden room" which has a nicely stocked kitchen. They have jello, and chips and pudding and soda and jello and fruit and jello and some sandwiches. Papa partook on a semi-regular basis. Mama stuck to water and ice and downed some chicken broth for lunch...mmm mmmm. Our nurses changed over and we were introduced to Traci, the blunt yet personable queen of all things baby. She was very cool, nicely calm and collected and was willing to volunteer her advice and own personal experience to help Stal. It was about 3 pm and she was 5 cm dialated. Crystal had gone through some rough contractions, some reaching 10 on the monitor scale and they were coming more and more often.
Crys had gone into this planning on doing a "natural childbirth" (for those of you who dont know what that is, it is a form of dimensia a woman experiences wherein the husband literally poops himself watching his wife die slowly on a table) but Crys was really hurting bad. I had been a huge epidural supporter from week 2 of the pregnancy but Stal was adamant about trying. I have to say, she blew my mind enduring what she did and I love that woman more for even attempting it. Despite the 3 to 5K price tag associated with this little (ha ha) barrel full of fun, I COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY ADVISE ALL COUPLES TO JUST TAKE THE STINKING THING!!!!!!! Alright, the process of actually getting the epidural is not a happy one, but the effects were great. The guy came in, said his hellos and had Stal turn on her side. We had heard horror stories about actually getting this so I promised Stal that I would watch and keep her informed. The guy wiped some poo colored water on her back to sterilize. Then he pulled out something that will haunt me till the day I die. It was a rubber tube with a sharp tip. THIS THING WAS A TUBE! It was as round as a pencil and this wasnt the shot! Crys must have seen my expression cause she said that I got real pale, the doc said that there would be some "pressure" and then he pushed the tube in. Stal was in pain, alot of pain, honestly if the guy had moved any slower I would have kicked him in the kidney. He then got the actual shot and put it inside the guide cathidur (tube) . She felt the shot too, it was a huge long needle, like 8 inches long. (I can only assume that there are some bigger people that need to have those extra 5 inches to reach their spine but Crys doesnt have much to her at all.) Anyway, the doc starts making conversation now and Crys is still in pain. He's like, "Ok.......this is going to take just a little bit of time to kick in. Once you begin to feel it you will slowly lose feeling in your legs and the pain should subside. You will still feel "pressure" (These people have completely redefined the word for me) but pain should not be an issue." This whole time, im just watching him take his time slowly empty the thing but I am ready to hop over the bed and take that thing to his face for hurting the wife but then he said..." You should start to feel icy cold run down your lower back" and instantly Stal stopped crying.
"Ohhh, thats cold."
The pain didnt stop instantly, but it was very evident that it was beginning to subside for her. He put another tube into her back and attached it to a bag full of "happy juice" and taped it to her back with a block of styrofoam. (I know that I was extremely dramatic with that last bit of but the response was A....MAZE.....ING! I would sit over by the contraction tracker and watch it hit 12, 13 and Crys would be joking around with people in the room. She would later describe it to me, " I can feel the pressure of the contraction, but it doesn't hurt really. The pain is gone but I feel the pressure." (I know! At this point Im beginning to question whether or not the entire female species has been playing a huge practical joke on men since way back in Genesis. Pressure....pain....whatever, I still wouldn't want to do it.)
So its 4ish and she is almost 6 cm dilated. (Now let me state something that I found somewhat annoying about the whole ordeal. I would be sitting watching an episode of the Office and a nurse would come in with a computer on a tray and a scanner gun. I would soon come to find out that they were scanning in things that they were adding to the room, or giving to Crystal or whatnot. It was like watching a hotel add things to your room bill. She would whip out her scanner, tag Crystal's wristband (almost too similar to a Jewel Osco preferred card) and just start scanning. "Oh look, a bag full of water, *click*, oh, a roll of toilet paper, *click*, a lollipop that I found in my pocket, *click*." I could just picture the insurance company going through the bill and nit picking things out (part of my obsessive nature). I know that it isnt really like that but give me a break, its my wife and my kid.....anyway, I digress) They decide that oxytocin is in order. *click* (Its the drug to help progress you faster.) They added it to her iv and wouldnt you know it, an hour and a half later she was up to 8.5 cm. Woot!
Traci was in and out of the room pretty regularly now and Rosie (our photographer : SDGphtography.blogspot.com) had shown up and was snapping pictures *snap* of the room, the fam, the wife. We were all getting excited reaching the meat and potatoes of the whole day. Stal had been laboring for 14 hours and was and 9.5 cm. Traci had paged the doctor a few times but she was in the middle of watching a basketball game in Batavia. Traci to the rescue! She was just chilling out and commenting on how good my deodorant smelled (Old Spice Red Zone "Showtime") . Crys couldnt seem to get passed that last little half cm. So they decided to prop one leg pointing at Saturn and the other to remain positioned parallel to the equator. (Dont ask me why) Then Traci said that she should push through the contraction. (Cue the intimidating music) The time had come to push? Really? Ok. Crys would tuck her head to her chest, try to relax her face while she pushed and I would grab hold of her foot and prove to her that I could count to 10. She must not have believed that I counted correctly because for the next hour and a half I counted to 10 three times a minute. Traci decided to whip out the game of Twister to play midway through the pushing. She had Crystal put right hand on red and left foot on blue. Then vice versa on yellow and green. Eventually I found my wife gripping a towel draped over bar that protruded from the end of the bed with her feet pressing against these bars running perpendicular to the floor. It was time for the mirror to say hello. Crys had been going at it for nearly 2 hours and then the doctor strolls in to say "hey". Then she leaves. The nurse told me to go and get some sugar in me because I "look like Im going to pass out". I felt fine but I ran for the door. I nearly tripped going out because there was a woman on the floor and two at the door listening intently to what was going on inside. My sister, my sister in law, my mom and my mother in law were all inches from the door listening to me count for Crys and for her pushing. Im sprinting down the hall in my socks and sexy blue scrubs, running to the fridge, grabbing some pudding, popping the lid and chugging it down as I run past the girls back into the room. The doc decides that it may be a good time to come back in so she pushes by the ladies outside the room (ask the girls about that) and into the room. She tells Traci that they want to break the bed. The next thing I know, Crystal is horizontal tugging on her towel, Rosie is helping support her head, Im trying to push her foot back up behind her head and the end of the bed where Crystal's butt used to be is broken off and pulled away. I dont know how she was still sitting there in bed but the doctor came wheeling up on a stool and told Crys to give it all she had. Now, Stal had been pushing for 2 hours and me and Traci had been watching this little hairy headed little man make his way closer and closer (sorry for the graphic bit, it truly was amazing) and Crys is beyond tired. Im counting, she starts pushing and the next thing I know a little purple head jumps out and starts staring at the floor. Doc goes to town sucking out this squeezing out that and there is a little man yell. Crys falls back on her back and gets ready to keep pushing but the doc tells her to stop. My kid is halfway here and the docs want her to stop?! Give me a break. They tell her to wait for the next contraction to push and she is just in agony. 30 seconds later another one comes on and she bears down and plop, out shoots Mr. Magoo in all his glory. He looked ticked off but didnt really cry much. I later told Isaac that his head seriously looked like an apple with a tennis ball attached to the back side of it. Whatever, we can fix that later. Crys had done it. The kid was out and even though the placenta wasnt a treat to labor either she was done 3 minutes later. Noah Riley Ferrell was born at 10:03 pm, December 3 weighing 7 lbs 10 oz. and measuring 19 inches long. (What happened to my line -backer baby you may ask? Just ask Crystal how much weight he has gained since coming home. Hoo Boy, chunker city. On a nice note, he was also born with a full head of hair, which Crystal and I have quaffed into a fo-hawk. The pics look great and Rosie was a godsend of a cheerleader for the whole delivery. (Wow, long post and yet there is still so much more that happened right after he came, from crawling out of the scale machine, to hitting on nurses, to Papa and him trying to get past security.....but that is another story. I'll update or Crys will to let you know what the first 48 hours was like soon.)

How God is Timing This Event

I went to the doctor's on Friday and waited in the waiting area for almost an hour. The last time that happened our doctor got called away for a delivery and I had to see a nurse. I was kind of relieved at that thought because this was the day that the doctor determined (as well as Jordan and I) when Noah is to arrive. She was planning on inducing us this weekend. Needless to say, I was a little more than a little relieved to think that she wasn't there to make this decision yet. It's a scary thing to be induced....and to have a baby deadline.

So there I was, waiting. Then I hear those fateful words, "Crystal, the doctor will see you now." SHE WAS THERE! In fact my doctor was there covering for another doctor's patients....great. Now I am freaking out. I have to have a baby, like...right now!

So I go in and hoped that she might not remember me. She did. Fortunately though Delnor does not like to induce women unless it it medically necessary or past their due date. They gave my doctor a hard time and ultimately the soonest they could get me in to be induced is not until Thursday evening. Which, if you all know us enough, is Noah's due date anyway. So we won't have a baby this weekend unless God sees fit to grace us with Noah.

I was getting apprehensive about the whole process for a couple of reasons. One is because I want that excitement of not knowing when I'll go into labor, and that surprise phone call to Jordan to have him come home from work. The second is that it is supposed be really painful really fast. And lastly, because I wanted to know what it's like to go into labor naturally. I felt we were also just allowing a "rush" process to see Noah and if I know God the way i do, that's not how he works. I have to always be more patient than I hope.

God is dictating this whole thing no doubt. No matter how badly we wanted to see Noah this weekend, God has other plans and nothing we do can interfere. We should have known better. We can't rush God. We try every time and fail miserably.

So for everyone out there, we can (and probably will) go into labor at any moment. But for now we know that it's definitely going to happen on or by his due date. Not this weekend by choice of our doctor or us. God has a time frame in mind and we cannot change that.