Dr B. has planned an eviction. Nugget’s getting relocated August 4th whether he/she likes it or not. The rent is no longer being paid and it’s time to move on. Eek! Eviction—sounds harsh, doesn’t it? Hubby’s boss called it that and I thought it was a) funny, and b) appropriate considering they are non-profit lawyers who deal a lot with people getting screwed out of money and/or housing. So anyway, this babe’s got an expiration date and I am a-ok with that. I am quite curious what “real” labor would feel like, so I am rooting to pop before then, but that’s still a week early so I suppose nature says it’s not very likely. However, I have learned not to rule out things which are not very likely, so I keep hoping.
Perhaps the next post will involve good tidings of great joy? Not to compare this wee one with Jesus or anything, but it sure is going to feel like a miracle. Yippeee!
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