Ready or Not

Ready:
I woke up the other night, indigestion broiling sweating like swollen pig, and decided to attempt to find sleep on the couch in the front room. Here I can turn the fan on full speed and sleep with out the burn in my chest and throat. I woke up, however, at least 4 times, thinking I was awakening from one of those weird late-term pregnancy dreams, huffing and puffing for air. Upon the 5th such arousal from my less than restful sleep I realized that it wasn't a bad dream, it was my body naturally awakening me to ensure that I was breathing. I think I had actually stopped breathing! Probably due to the way I was situated on the couch. It was kind of scary once I realized that was what was going on!
Not Ready:
Where are the baby clothes again? Oh yeah, up in the attic - way back in the attic. Bottles, nipples, pacifiers? I know I put them neatly way somewhere in a nice brown box. Out of sight, out of mind, and now, probably out of time.
Ready:
My son is cramped for space. This miserable state he is enduring obviously affects me as well. But he will be liberated soon enough. I have learned a little about him through witnessing and feeling the fight he puts up inside of me. He is just that, a fighter. He is persistent, and sometimes not very gentle. (Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt and attribute his not so gentle jabbings to his lack of coordination). I want to meet this son of mine. Give him kisses and tell him I love him.
Not Ready:
I struggle with the 2 I already have. Not struggle as in "I can't stand being their mommy", but struggle as in "Am I doing this right?. . . Nope not most of the time" But the Lord trusts me apparently, with two I have, and the one on the way. Can I do 3? We'll see!
Ready:
Milk: 2.99 a gallon at least. And I can drink 2 gallons in 2 1/2 days myself. Isn't that crazy. Some weird craving that also serves as a deterrent to the indegestion. And Matt can go through a fair share on his own as well. Maybe I should invest in a dairy cow. (But I believe that the end is near, for on occasion I do get a bit sick from the milk, perhaps because of the amazingly high consumption rate I have put my body through, but most likely because my body is ready to have this child).
Not Ready:
Swollen bosoms and my own milk. (Ouch!)
Ready:
Swollen bosoms and my own milk. (Hee hee!)
Swollen ankles, face, belly . . . you get the picture.
Not Ready:
I know he is safe where he is. Free of bugs, and colds, scrapes and cuts. Free of the obvious and not so obvious buffetings of the world and those who would hold him down and keep him back. Untouched by the confusing and misleading voices of the world.
Ready:
To help him see how strong he is. I think that the truth of the matter is that he is ready. Ready to enter this life, the one he has been training for with his Father in Heaven. I think he is ready to stretch out, and test the waters, willing to take the risks that this earth life presents, and turn them into opportunities for growth, and progress in this journey we are all on. Eager to prove himself worthy and prepared for the challenge. Anxious to move forward and reach onward to our ulimate goal of eternal life and exaltation.

So I guess whether I am ready or not, he is. So whenever God says "Go. . . . "