My mum’s eighth pregnancy appeared to fly by; the birth to creep upon us. One minute there were three months to go, the next, this new addition could make an appearance any day!
We washed, dried, and folded seemingly mounds of baby clothing – could anyone possibly be small enough to fit it? A car seat was organised, meals arrived for the freezer, and midwife visits became more frequent. People began asking whether we had news yet. My parents leafed through baby names books. Finally, we were ready, and were left to wait.
Thursday night/Friday morning of the following week, Mum thought things may have begun. Everything stopped, however, and our day continued as normal.
My uncle took my siblings and me to church on Sunday morning, and the midwife (Mrs. Vivian) arrived at our place soon after our departure.
After lunch, my siblings went to my cousins’ place, and Uncle Pete and I did the dishes and made a roast dinner.