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I roll my eyes and sit back on the couch with a mixing bowl full of cut melon and a fork then look at Ivy. “Our brothers did not find these journals nearly as earth-shattering as you and I.”
“Typical,” she snorts. “Thank you for scanning and sending every page of mine by the way. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I couldn’t stop myself. I did it for everyone. Stuff like this is too valuable. Which reminds me,” I say, then pop a piece of sweet cantaloupe in my mouth and continue talking because what are manners between sisters? “Jonah isn’t getting his journal until he can be trusted not to lose it.”
“I bet he’d use it as wrapping paper if it was nearby and he ran out.”
“You assume he would wrap something in the first place?” I grouse.
Ivy brings a glass of water to her lips before saying, “I bet if we told him this was the diary of Anne Frank he would believe us.”
“That’s if he knew who Anne Frank was.”
“Good point,” she giggles.
“I don’t understand how he’s made it this far in his life.”
“He’s charmed his way through everything,” she answers.
“It might also be pure luck.” Ivy gives a considering smile as a pause lingers between us. “How’s your training program going? Are you a certified midwife yet?”
She smiles, “Not yet. But it’s going great. It’s hard, mostly because of the hours. Babies don’t care about other people’s sleep schedules, it’s so rude.” That makes me chuckle as I take another bite of melon. “I won’t be certified until I come back to the States and work under another midwife, like an apprenticeship. But for now, I’m gaining a lot of experience. Just yesterday I participated in my two-hundredth birth,” she says proudly.
“That’s amazing, Ivy!”
“Yeah, it was pretty wild, too. This mom of five just walked into the birthing center with all of her kids, in labor, and within twenty minutes the baby was born.”
“What?” I exclaim.
“Yeah, she just had a been-here-done-this attitude.”
“I should channel that woman’s energy when I give birth.”
“Why? Are you freaking out?”
“A little,” I sigh. “It’s a lot of little things I worry about. Like the mind-blowing reality of two babies exiting my body.”
“Are you still trying to have a vaginal birth?”
“Yes. The doctor thinks I should have a c-section, but I want to try giving birth vaginally.”
“And we’re still on for a hospital birth?” she asks calmly, jotting down notes in what I assume is her file on me. I still have an obstetrics doctor who I see for all my prenatal appointments, but Ivy’s been following along the whole time and giving me advice.
“Yeah. I did confirm with the doctor that I’m allowed to have you with me as a midwife in the hospital.”
“Perfect. And how does Raf want to support you on birthing day?”
“Oh, he’s already read all the birthing partner books you recommended. I think he wants to catch the babies,” I chuckle.
“That’s great! It sounds like he wants to be involved in the whole process.” He really does. And it’s more than just being an active birthing partner. When we came home from my dad’s house yesterday and read through the journals, he was the one who suggested we do the same thing. Each of us writes in a journal for each baby. I was floored by that.
Then I remember what he did last week and smile. “Oh my god, Ivy, I started looking into hypnobirthing and he created a playlist for me.”
“Aww,” she coos. “Where is he right now?”
“He has an away game tomorrow in Norfolk, so he left this afternoon.”
She gives me a suggestive hum and raises one eyebrow. “You didn’t go with him this time? Dane said he—”
