Waiting. Rather impatiently if I must admit. Home for the last 12 days has been the Top Shed. An unfinished attempt of a temporary holiday home on our River Nest, while the main residence is occupied. The Top Shed lacks most luxuries you will find in a normal four walled house.
I have a bucket bath behind some roofing iron, an old fashioned bush drop dunny, and a rather lovely king sized mattress under a soft cotton mozzie net (my only security from bush creepy crawlies). Last night Caleb put drain pipes on our kitchen sink... we were so excited about a simple luxury.
Normally I absolutely adore the Top Shed... but these last few days have challenged my perception of the place, especially with this unusual heat. At 41 weeks pregnant, I miss my hot and cold endless water supply, my air conditioned bed room, my leather couch, internet access, Ba'il's bedroom and a real toilet. Never before have I missed home in Cooktown so much, where our normal routine and luxuries reside.
While we wait we try to pass our days by long walks in the bush, swims in the river, henna bellies, long day time rests in front of a little fan and reading books. Each day we tell the baby that it's ok to come out now. Please come out now.
There is something ever so unnatural about having to travel to give birth. Having to leave our comfort zone in order to be closer to a hospital. It's just plain unfair. I plan to dedicate a lot of time to campaigning birth options for women who live remotely once I get home with our wee one.