DEFLATION . . .

M, who's already been in the hospital for a week, is being kept for another week, and has been threatened with being held hospital hostage for the next five months, until her Noodles are born.

Sigh.

What she and C must be feeling and struggling with, I have no idea. C says he's deflated and just wants some hope that his wife will be home soon and that she and the Noodles will be healthy, even if they're not being guarded at the hospital.

M is bored and stir-crazy. They won't let C smuggle in their pup. They won't let her stroll around (for obvious reasons), and they are just barely allowing her to take a shower. She has to rent her hospital television -- thank God for technological advancement, because their laptops, i-Pods, DVDs, BlackBerries and cell phones are coming in awfully handy these days. But really, how much Web-surfing can a girl do? Actually, I'm probably the wrong one to ask . . .

The only thing that sustains them is concern for the ultimate well-being of the Noodles, and that is as it should be. It's just that there's a lot of uncertainty right now, a lot of waiting, a lot of just-sitting-there-flipping-through-magazines, a lot of wishing for this or that or the other thing, and a lot of simply wanting to go home.

So we continue to pray for M and C and the Noodles, for Boy Noodle to stop pressing on his ma in places he shouldn't be pressing on, for fat healthy Noodle development, for warding off moroseness and dullness of spirit, for wise medical attention, and for sustained high hopes and an abundance of faith and an offering of gratitude for the gifts being nurtured right now . . .