This is for my mom, who is too sick to see the baby.

You aren't going to believe this. Well, yeah you are.

Need to get Asher to sleep? Put him in the room with Brian while he's playing guitar.

Need to get Asher to wake up? Get Brian to sing something.

Merry Christmas

we're home.

What a whirlwind week. I'll do my best not to make this heretofore a "mommyhood blog", but you're going to have to humor me for a little while. For the next few months it will be hard to think about anything else. After that, though, I promise I'll write about life outside of our four walls. I'll try to, anyway.

In the meantime, guys, he's perfect. He has black hair and dark blue-gray eyes. He makes this cute little squeaky sound when he's cold (I know that I will not always think his cry is cute. But for now, the new hasn't worn off, and it still is). And he knows who I am! He knew me the first time he heard my voice.

The whole experience is really amazing.

All that I will say publicly about All Things Medical is that none of it was as bad as I expected. If you've read this site at all in the past month, you know that I was pretty apprehensive about labor. I'll talk privately in more detail (but only if you ask!), but I really didn't need to be so afraid of it. There was never a point, either in labor or surgery or post-surgery, that I felt like it was more than I could handle.

Christmas came early to the Gates' house this year.

Good night everyone.

Now Appearing...

Hello Stephanie's blog readers! You know who you are. This is husband Brian filling in on Across The Gypsy Flatroad today. As most of you know Asher Paul arrived on Tuesday morning at 10:04! 7lbs 6oz and 21 inches long, he is most excellent. Baby and mom are doing well and are expected to be home on Friday just in time for Christmas. Good times! Here are a few pictures for you to peruse. Don't forget to check out Asher's blog for his special presentation. Thank you for all the thoughts and prayers and we are all excited about seeing you soon.

In Peace,
Brian

Merry Christmas from Aunt Gail

This was the picture in our Christmas card - my aunt took her dog to see Santa.

a warning, and a birth

Warning first
I am currently concentrating all of my physical and psychic energy on having a baby before Monday. I'm not sure that labor can be accomplished by sheer force of will, but I'll let you know in a few days. You have now been warned: any words not focused directly at Me Having This Baby This Weekend become nonsensical and are immediately forgotten. Don't try to talk me down, just, you know, beware. I will probably snap at you, and then tell you why it's your fault that I'm snappy, if you try to talk to me about, say, taxes or dinner or Santa Claus (because Christmas is a LIFETIME away. SO MANY THINGS will happen in my life before Christmas). Conversely, if YOU are not interested in every minute detail of all of my schemes for Having This Baby This Weekend, I will be personally and deeply offended. You've been dealt an unfair hand, I know, but you can't say that you weren't warned.

Just be glad you aren't my husband right now.

So, I wrote this a few hours ago. Since then I've had a minor breakdown. The long and short of it is - I don't feel well. And I haven't felt well, really, in nine months, but there's been a steep decline in the past 72 hours. Yesterday afternoon I thought for sure that we would be at the hospital by now, but, alas, it was a false alarm. So. Here I sit, waving my white flag at God, acknowledging how little control I have over this. Okay. I give.

Now for the birth
of a blog. Asher may not be here yet, but, with the help and creativity of his dad, he already has a voice in the blogosphere. www.asherpaul.wordpress.com.

With that, I'm off to eat a hamburger. Happy Friday to you.

Have you been keeping up with what's happening with Senator Tim Johnson? Don't you feel like you're watching an episode from West Wing?

thoughts on being a sucker versus selfishness

Thanks, Kat, for giving me something to think about besides pregnancy woes and labor apprehension. Here is my opinion, for what it's worth.

When we lived in Birmingham, we became friends with two couples, JR and Tammy, and Rebecca and Marlin. We had dinner with them a few times - JR liked barbeque, though none of them were picky. Tammy called every few weeks to let us know how everyone was doing, how JR was helping a friend fix her plumbing while her boyfriend was out of town, how they'd gone to visit JR's grown son the day before. JR's brother had died a few months before we met them, and it was easier for him if he stayed busy. Rebecca was pregnant, and the bigger she got, the harder it was for her to get around. Tammy helped her out as much as she could. Tammy was never able to have children, and though I suspected she was jealous of Rebecca, she regarded her with a sort of maternal protection. Rebecca was younger than all of us, and, far from home, needed mothering. In April Rebecca called to say she thought her water broke, and what should she do? To which I responded, "Honey, I can't do anything for you! Go to the hospital!" She had a little boy, Marlin Jr., the next morning. After the baby was born, Rebecca and Marlin moved back to Tennessee to be around her family. JR and Tammy gave them going away presents, and Tammy cried when they left. In the fall, I lost touch with both couples. Tammy called a few times, but I wasn't very good at responding. It wasn't her, it was me. I wasn't very good at doing anything productive by that point. I went to see them before we left, though. No one was home, so I left a note and told them we were leaving, and that we loved them and enjoyed the year we'd spent with them.

JR, Tammy, Rebecca, and Marlin are homeless. They lived (and live) in a tent at the top of a hill behind a strip mall in midtown Birmingham. Does this story read differently to you now? I hope not.

I never talk about this, because I never want to use them as a badge. Look at me and my homeless friends - this is what I want to avoid. They weren't a badge, or a project, or a problem to be fixed. They are people, with thoughts and experiences and emotions just like us. We talked about Jesus a few times. They all had stories about churches that had turned them out because the preachers thought they weren't doing enough to get their lives in order. Tammy liked to remind us that if Jesus were here today, he'd rather be around people like her than anyone else. She was right. I learned a valuable lesson that year: you can't love and serve someone if you're afraid of them. And you can't follow Christ without loving people. So following Jesus means, in effect, that I have to set aside my fear and rhetoric and get to know the person in front of me. I can say whatever I want, but until I can do this one thing, until I can love and serve the person that's staring me in the face, I'm not really following Christ.

A month or so ago, Brian and I ran into Tammy in Prattville. She had come down for the day with a friend. She and JR are fine. They haven't heard from Rebecca or Marlin since they moved, but everyone was healthy and happy. Tammy was excited that I was pregnant. We hugged one another and promised to stop by the hill the next time we're in Birmingham.

My response to Kat's question is, I'd rather be the fool that gave away my money than the one who withheld from someone in need. I'm not responsible for their salvation or their productivity in society, but I will have to stand before God and explain how I treated others. That in itself feels like an overwhelming responsibility. It would be profoundly arrogant of me to think that I've done anything life changing for Tammy and JR in the time that I've known them. I can't say if any of them have said a sinner's prayer or had a salvation experience. They still live on the hill, and neither of them have jobs or cars or houses. All that I've done is what I've been told to do - to follow the example of Jesus, and to leave changing lives up to Him.

I love caesar salads and baked potatoes. Love them. It's about the only meal left in the world that tastes good, and that doesn't make me feel sick later. Hooray for baked potatoes and salads.

That's all I have for you today.

Still pregnant ...

It's beginning to look a lot like

Georgia and Sawyer at Christmas. How cute are these babies? Have I mentioned here that Georgia is a genius? Stephanie blushes when people say it, but it's true. This girl can tell you what she had for breakfast this morning, and she's not yet two years old. Most kids at her age are just starting to put words together, while she's been having conversations for MONTHS.

Also, I can't remember dates exactly, but sometime in the next week is Mary's birthday and Nick and Laura's first anniversary. In honor -



Mary, is it POSSIBLE that the last time I saw you was at Nick's wedding? Well, in a few weeks we'll have new pictures and new stories, and all will be right with the world. Congrautations Nick and Laura, and happy birthday to Mary.

Usually, this happens first:

It's too soon to worry about this, of course, but that's never stopped me before - what if he doesn't come before Christmas? He has TWO Christmas outfits, and THREE Christmas stockings, waiting on him. The stockings will keep until next year, but the outfits, well, next year he probably won't be wearing a newborn size. Not to mention - HOW MUCH LONGER AM I GOING TO BE PREGNANT? I'm really not miserable and sick of being pregnant. I was more miserable earlier in the pregnancy, and there was no end in sight. But I have been pregnant for thirty eight weeks now - isn't that long enough? I want to see what he looks like. I also want to regain the ability to breathe and eat, to stop being bewildered by my body. Being pregnant has been fine, but isn't it time to move on? I'm tired of talking about how painful labor is and how my life is going to change. Let's stop talking about it and do this already. Do you hear that, baby? Let's get on with this, already.

And - AND - if he waits until after the New Year, I will have to pay cobra to keep insurance through January, as well as new deductibles for the new year, totaling THREE deductibles that I will have paid for ONE pregnancy, which sounds impossible but is exactly what will happen if this baby doesn't come soon. Yikes.

That's one trail that my addled brain wanders down every few hours. Here's the other:

By the end of this month, a baby will live in my house. A BABY. In the next few weeks, I'm going to be completely responsible for a human life. And before that happens, I'm going to go into labor, and it's going to hurt. There's no way to get around that. No matter what happens afterwards - even though I am planning on an epidural, and even if I had to have a c-section (which is a scenario that exists only in my mind. There is absolutely no medical reason for me to be concerned about a c-section) - no matter what else happens, first, I'm going to go into labor, and it's going to hurt. And if he doesn't come soon, they're going to want to enduce (and I'm going to want them to, probably), and then it will hurt even more. Does he have enough warm clothes/ bottles/ burp cloths/ sheets? How would I know? And the little outfits with footies - are those seriously ALL supposed to be pajamas? Some of them are elaborately decorated and have collars and everything - how many little boys really sleep in collared outfits past six months old? I'm totally using them as real outfits. For my baby. When he gets here, which will be soon. Yikes.

Is everybody out there praying for me? Because you really should be. It's like The Three Faces of Eve around here.

Want to hear something funny? My dog loves cold weather. He is invigorated by it. I'm not making this up - he runs and wags his tail and begs and barks to go outside whenever it's cold, and runs and wags his tail and barks whenever he comes back in. It cracks me up.

like a phone call from an old friend

I haven't listened to Patty in several months, but I woke up with Mad Mission on the brain. I've been listening to her all morning, and am reminded again of how much I love this music. So, in honor of everyone's favorite folk singer, I offer some lyrics this morning. In the meantime, I'm off to the doctor, where he is certain to tell me I'm not having a baby this week, and I'm certain to ask him to reconsider. Happy Tuesday, everybody.

Sweet Lorraine

Sweet Lorraine, the fiery haired brown eyed schemer
Who came from a long line of drinkers and dreamers
Who knew that sunshine don't hold up to dark
Whose businesses fail
Who sleep in the park
Lorraine, who spoke of paintings in Paris
And outlandish things to her family just to scare us
whose heart went pokin' where it shouldn't ought
Whose mother could only spit at the thought of
Lorraine, sweet Lorraine

Her father would tear out like a page of the Bible
Then he'd burn down the house to announce his arriva1
Her mother was working and never was home
Lorraine carved out a little life of her own
Lorraine started working, Lorraine went to school
Her mother threw stones at her on the day that she moved
Now isn't that a very strange thing to do
For someone who never really wanted you
Lorraine, sweet Lorraine

Her daddy called her a slut and a whore
On the night before her wedding day
The very next morning at the church
Her daddy gave Lorraine away, Lorraine away
Lorraine, sweet Lorraine

In the battle of time in the battle of will
It's only hope and your heart that gets killed
And it gets harder and harder Lorraine, to believe in magic
When what came before you is so very tragic
Lorraine, sweet Lorraine
Lorraine, sweet Lorraine


From Living With Ghosts
©1996 One Big Love Music/Chrome Dog Music (ASCAP)

here, there

It's snowing in Kansas City. We had to turn on our air conditioner here in Alabama last night (because it was a fun-loving 80* yesterday!), and today the high is in the 40's. You would think that WE'D had the blizzard, and that Kansas City had to turn on their air conditioners, for all of the weather reports that talk about how cold it's going to be in Alabama this weekend. Pa-lease.

I miss Kansas. Not just the weather (which would be SO fun, with all of the Searcy kids and Taylor in the snow), but the whole experience. I'm glad to be here, and we're NOT LEAVING (we're not even going to visit for several months yet), but I miss it all the same. I miss the prayer room, and the Searcys, and living in a city.

That's all. Have a good day, ya'll. And don't forget your jacket this morning. It's supposed to get cold this afternoon.