IrishOboe

Warning:  This is a long post.  Here’s the short version: It was long.  It hurt. Joseph was born.  We’re very happy.

Just a few weeks is enough to start altering the memory, but here I will recall as best as I can the story of Joseph’s birth.

In the weeks leading up to the birth the baby occupied little of my mind.  I was frantically studying for the Goethe German C1 test that I’d failed to back out of in time and I thought I had at least a week after all my obligations were finished to focus on getting ready for Baby.  I’m very grateful now that I still made a point of getting enough rest each night despite studying so intensely.  Of course because I’d dropped everything to study my German, after the test I had to cram in practice for the harp piece I was playing for Cornelia’s wedding the day after the test finished.  We all had a lovely time at the wedding and thought we did well by leaving early and in time to get home by midnight.  I relaxed into bed thinking I could now finally take it easy and finish the preparations for the birth.  All the major stuff was done, but there were still plenty of nesting tasks I wanted to complete.

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