On Retrieving Peanuts....

We needed peanuts the other day. A group of mothers-to-be was having a special class at our clinic, and part of the snack was to be peanuts. Looking through the list of ladies I was hosting the class with, I realized that one of the married students was on the list.... or so I thought. She owns a car, so the task of going someplace to purchase said peanuts was presumably a simpler feat for her than for any of the rest of the group. Assuming that she would also have peanuts on the brain, I sent her a text.

Hey, do you by any chance have any thoughts about retrieving peanuts?

This fair lady, (who was actually not in the same group as me) surmising I was referring to our upcoming shift together, responded:

Hey Melissa, I am still in the catching rotation, if that's what you mean.

Much laughter after we came to a mutual understanding of our respective interpretations of the texts. We now have a new euphemism for catching babies.... retrieving peanuts. Doesn't that just put things nicely?

 I shall proceed to assail you with pictures of food and babies, both of which seem uniquely suited to putting smiles on the faces of even the most sober of human beings. To the right of your screen you should notice a plate of Indian food, a side of Naan, and a plate of burning-incense-gone-wrong. It was an exciting dinner, the fire in our mouths closely coordinating with that of our centerpiece. The climax happened to be when the incense plate cracked, and the fire needed to be dramatically swept from the table and relocated outside in the drizzle.
 
Now, you may look at the picture on the left and ask yourself, "Where did Melissa get that fabulous blue, sparkly headband?" If that is the question you find yourself asking, I'll just take this moment to give a shout out to the Privett family for blessing me with a little care package. It arrived two days ago, and delighted this heart of mine.
 
This child is named Jags Christ. I do not find that I particularly endorse the name, but as a midwife, I do not always have a say in such matters. He is my first baby of the new year, born on the anniversary of my own sister's birth. Although his arrival does thrill me, the circumstances do not. His father has turned out to be a depressed, drug addicted, wife beater. He and the mother are no longer together. Little Jags has an older brother and sister to help take care of him.

While Jags was on his way out, his mother and I really bonded. She was so broken, not surprisingly, and needed a bit of extra tender love during her labor. After the birth, she asked me why I was kind to her. I was able to plant a tiny seed about the kindness of God, and how it reflects in His people. Please, dear ones, pray that her heart will be open to further cultivation of the love of her heavenly Father in the weeks to come.

 To the left of your screen you should notice some nearly indescribable cuteness. This fellow was not my catch, although I did play a huge role in his birth. I also played a role in his naming. Jack Derek shall forever be his handle. A very sweet little tyke, he cooperated extraordinarily well for his photo shoot.




Finally, a bit of laughter to wrap up this post. This child and I were mutually enamored with one another. Mother found herself amused as we spent a few moments in shared laughter. It appears that she is very weird and laughs at strange things, much like her midwife. The little doll was uberly precious, and I have not the slightest doubt that she is already developing a nerdy, off-beat sense of humor and general good-natured perspective on the world.

Alright folks. All for now! Over and out.