Baby Abigail's going through major crying jags. Not sure yet if she's got a infant reflux, colic, or she's just a high needs baby who gets tired of the swaddling trick. (Didn't she READ her copy of the "Happiest Baby on the Block?)
As penance for the horrible Obama care, my poor health insurance company is total in disarray. As some sort of cost saving measure, the administrative staff is newly centralized and cut to the bone. I spent over 15 hours on hold during the past three weeks trying to get Baby Abigail added to our health insurance plan. Monday when I called in desperation for a doctor appointment for my crying newborn, I was told that she was now listed as "inactive". (Happy 30th day of life outside the womb, sweetheart!). Supposedly this minor glitch will be ironed out by Thursday morning.
Meanwhile, I keep threatening to record Baby Abigail's crying jags and replay them in excruciatingly loud volume for the phone operators who keep telling me "Its only a 96 hour delay, Mrs. Benjamin. What's the big deal?"
So, I'm up on the New Motherhood Cross for a while. Feel free to put your prayer intention. I'm not promising any profound insights since my prayer life right now consists of saying repeatedly "Really, God, really?" Yet it always helps to know that I'm not alone in suffering.