Today is the first day of the OKC homeschool convention. It's a place full of books, wonderful fellow homeschoolers and lots and lots of knowledge I would love to glean. But not me. I don't go to convention as wonderful as it sounds and as much I would like to.
Seven years ago, I packed up a car with my friend and we came down from Tulsa for a weekend of girl talk, eating out, and books...lots of books. The convention sounded like heaven on earth to us and we were ready to experience it all. We had a fun drive down here and I rushed to the bathroom as soon as we got parked. My 9 month pregnant body had held it's bladder long enough. I remember laughing with my friend as we ran up the stairs that my baby boy was bouncing up and down on my bladder.
Saturday morning I woke up at the hotel and we hopped out of bed fairly quickly to get ready for the seminars and the perusing of the books. Halfway through the day I all of a sudden felt terrible. I apparently looked terrible too because my friend took me and we sat down for awhile while I tried to get my feet back under me. We did end up finishing up the convention and headed home.
Sunday morning I woke up and realized immediately that I hadn't felt Jacob move since the trip up the stairs on Friday. Usually I "played" with him every morning...poking and prodding my tummy while he poked and prodded back. Saturday morning we had been so busy, I hadn't taken the time to play with him. Now, Sunday morning, he wasn't playing with me. I poked, prodded, shook my stomach, drank orange juice, laid on my side and called the doctor. He told me to come into the hospital so they could do a quick check on Jacob and make me feel better.
Most of you know, I never "felt better."
I don't go to convention. It is too wrapped up in Jacob and his last days.