This Tuesday night we’re flying Christy and a dear friend (who happens to be a neo-natal nurse) to Houston for the long-awaited fetal MRI on Wednesday. We are so ready to get a good look at that booger in Bella’s chest and to know more precisely what we might be up against come delivery day, some 4-5 weeks away. We’re making the most of Bella’s jaunt southward. She’ll not only undergo the MRI, but another ultrasound, an echocardiogram, and a consult with the head of fetal surgery, Dr. Darrell Cass (who, we might add, bears a striking resemblance to our favorite troubadour, David Wilcox.)

Aside from the little coughs and sneezes, most things around here are going relatively smoothly. Christy’s hasn’t felt this energetic in months. We “found” a new nanny within a couple days of saying goodbye to our previous gem of a helper. (The winds changed; Mary Poppins had to catch the breeze). Our new help is a DBU student preparing for marriage early next year. We’re so thankful for her and delighted donotopen.jpgto have her. Plus we think her name is cool: Gilda.

The sense of expectation is all the more heightened this Advent.  What comes in late December (or early January) changes everything.  Much like it did with the coming of a Royal Child into the austerest of settings.  Everything changed.  We’re looking forward to what we cannot see but what we shall receive with thanksgiving.