Goodnight.

It's late and Joey is working overtime.
I am learning a bazillion million things, one of which is not to hate overtime. That it is an act of love, even though at first it feels like a punch in the gut.
That raising a family is like a climbing a huge, impossible mountain, but that somehow, we make it.
On that note, I can't really believe I am having a baby anytime now. I can't believe that there is a baby in my tummy that is going to cry a whole heck of a lot when he comes out. A person that will need to be bathed and fed and changed and bounced and sung to, even if I feel like I have to barf, or whatever. Right now he's so silent; a mound under my boobs that moves sometimes.
I can't believe I am starting this whole thing over, that I actually consented to another bomb to be dropped on our life about nine months ago. It seemed so far away then, and of course, our life has done a nose dive in the last nine months since then. But God knew it was going to do that. And here we are.
Things are fuzzy now, but they won't be for long. Clarity eventually comes, and so does peace. A way to live with the inevitable, unexpected blows of life. Faith that is stronger, a God that is bigger, and loves me more than I ever knew.