It was hot.
Or maybe I was hot because I had on the one pair of jeans and one black shirt that still kinda fit. I may have been hot from anxiety and anticipation and honestly, sheer panic.
I had the plan. We had dinner early after Jason got home. Once the sun started going down a little and the kiddos started heading out of their houses in their princess and clown and superman costumes, we would head out to the front porch.
Sitting on the front steps, with my belly hanging between my legs because that was the only place it could go, we passed out candy and tried to keep our wits about us.
Once we ran out of candy, right on my schedule, we headed in and flipped the lights.
It was time to put Phase 2 of Halloween Night 2004 into play.
A quick snack and change of clothes — into ANYthing more comfortable than jeans and that hot black shirt — and we were off to bed for a quick nap.
In a little over 3 hours we would have to wake up to check into the hospital at midnight for the arrival of Mr. Henry Love.
I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to throw up from the panic and fear. What if something happened? What if it ended badly? What if we brought THIS baby home and he died, too? What if? What if? WHAT IF?
I remember crying, cuddled into Jason’s arms, grief and panic and excitement enveloped me in those final hours before another life was born to our family. A life that was so loved already and ready to enter our lives.
Well, he wasn’t SO ready… it would take another 26 hours before he’d decide to grace us with his presence.