There are often two sides of life, the clean, lovely surface-then the crazy underneath. Like looking at a pristine river rock, only to pick it up and find all sorts of bugs freaking out.
Such is the life of Mrs. Hall right now.
Underneath I am calling midwifes and figuring out what a doula is. We are not _______ yet, not that I would tell anyway. superstition and all. Our insurance is not covering a lot of things and we have to make some out of pocket decisions. Pfft. Offt. Gaah. Offt and an extra Gaah. It's just that this time, no matter what happens, we will want this to be special and we want support.
The lovely river rock:
Because two weeks ago Mr. Hall and I were sitting on a park bench. He was sitting directly in front of me, betwixt my capri's. I was working his lower, mid and upper back. Massaging his neck, then ears and finally giving him a good scalp rubbins. Several times I had to tell him to shhh 'cause he was moaning so loud.
I mean, kids were all around us. It was a public park after all. Our kids were absorbed in the sandbox. We could see them playing enthusiastically. I was going to go over and make sure everything was ok, but then Mr. Hall said, "I'm pretty sure they can figure out how to play with sand all by themselves."
Which made me laugh.
Then he moved from my front to my right side. I draped my legs over his. And we held each other, arms wrapped tight. I buried my head in the nuk of his neck while we basked in the sun. Our bodies were close and humming. There was quiet. And feeling the love that day, I melted like butter. Because that day was the day we might have made another baby.