My first child was born a week after his due date, and that only because we evicted him (he was huge). I remember vividly my due date coming...and going...and every day thereafter my anticipation would rise like a hot air balloon, only to be deflated at day's end when no sign of labor was to be found. Seven days of hope and despair. I can't wait to see this baby, finally meet him, hold him in my hands, feel his smooth skin, find traces of family resemblance...
Of course, the day we finally met him made all that waiting so worthwhile. What a doll. (Confession: when the nurse handed him to me and I saw his face for the first time, my first sensation was relief, as in whew, he's not ugly; he really is cute. I know--I'm shallow.) He looked great, felt great, and was welcomed into our family.
Why the fond reminiscing?
My coauthor and I have recently joked to one another that we feel like overdue expectant mothers. Really, the book isn't even late--it's technically still to be released in March. But we knew it was in the warehouse over a week ago, so each day since then the anticipation has heightened, only to be deflated every evening when the doorbell didn't ring.
But yesterday was D-Day! The doctor (aka UPS man) delivered a big box of our highly anticipated, long-awaited book, Mixed Ministry, to my doorstep(as did other UPS guys to Sue and Henry). I spent the rest of the day carrying a copy around with me, leafing through chapters, checking out the cover art, generally thrilling over its arrival.
Even third babies are exciting, right?
It will be a few weeks before Mixed Ministry hits the bookshelves, but you can pre-order it on Amazon or CBD. Thanks for celebrating with me!