Smelling the coffee and remembering that discretion is the better part of valor, I mumbled something about if we had any half-and-half in the refrigerator and then I just resigned myself to making the best of this without getting into a fight.

I knew I was past the point of no return on this home birth thing, and if I was going to “catch the baby,” I’d better get myself ready, which meant, right now, drinking some coffee.

I’d just have to see how the rest of morning went from there.

First things first.

One step at a time.

Setting up the CD player, which we never used, was the easy part. Finding the right music for the big event was another matter entirely. Maggie went down to the bakery to get some pastries for our soon-to-arrive guests. It usually took her at least 30 minutes to pick out what she wanted. I never could figure that out, because she always got exactly the same thing, which was croissants with strawberry butter. I mean it was always the same thing, and it was always 30 minutes. I think it might have had something to do with those “cute French guys” who owned the place. But I never went there with her. I knew better.