Anyhow, I pulled out the camera and snapped a few photos.

Ah, well, the joys of pregnancy are there to remind men that we are the stronger sex when it comes to the pain and discomfort threshold. And that we simply let them think they're stronger in order to stroke their egos.

Take, for instance, my husband's "injury" last week. I got a call from Brian after one of his flights saying that he was on his way to the emergency room. "Don't worry, though," he said reassuringly. He was just going there because the flight doc was closed for the afternoon. When I asked him what had happened he explained that he was certain he either broke or sprained his knee on the jumpseat in the jet. And just how does one break one's knee on a jumpseat in a tiny cockpit? By briskly walking by it.

I did my best to stifle my laughter as he relayed the dilemma he now faces with his upcoming fitness test. I asked him to call me when he left the emergency room to put my mind at ease (wink, wink). About 30 minutes later, I received the news that Brian fortunately had NOT broken or even sprained his knee. No, the doctor was confident that it was a bruise and that some over-the-counter Ibuprofen would do the trick. They wrapped it up for him and sent him on his way. Too bad they were all out of Bob the Builder bandages and sugar-free suckers.

I couldn't help but tease him a little (okay, a lot) as he did his best to convince me that the doctor said "It COULD have been a chipped bone!" When he'd had enough of my mock-sympathy, he pointed to my enormous belly and screamed, "I HOPE IT HURTS WHEN IT COMES OUT!"

Oh, you'd better watch out, father-to-be. Because I'm pretty sure that labor room has LOTS of chairs. And I know I'm strong enough to throw them!

Reunited after Brian's first deployment (June 2009)It's rare that I blog about Brian or his career because, to be perfectly honest, I'm not exactly sure whether or not something I say here will later come back to bite him in the butt. I envision some commander down the line saying, "Well, we wanted to promote you, but we read about your shenanigans on your blog and decided against it." Poor guy already has no privacy whatsoever. If he so much as breaks wind in his sleep, I have to call my family to tell them how hilarious it was.

And speaking of sleep, there is something very interesting you may not know about military pilots. In extreme circumstances, where there is a definite need, they will occasionally take a prescription sleep-inducing medication to help with difficult schedule changes. For example, Brian may have to work normal 7 to 4 hours on Monday and then come in for a flight at 11 p.m. on Tuesday where he'll fly until 2 p.m. on Wednesday. Then, he would resume a "normal" schedule for Thursday. It's impossible to acclimate your body in time, so the flight doctors do give prescription sleep aids when they are necessary. Again, this is only in rare cases and under a doctor's supervision. Just want to make that exceedingly clear.

I have had the pleasure of witnessing a few of these occasions where Brian has needed one of these sleepy pills in order to get adequate rest for a long flight. I can tell you a few things I've learned about them so far:  1) they're best if taken under supervision or while the individual is already in bed and 2) they're all the hilarity of drunkenness without the guilt or nasty hangover.

On one occasion Brian waited WAY too long to go to bed after taking his sleepy pill. He was helping me move things around the house, and he was completely falling all over himself. I finally convinced him to go to bed and escorted him up the stairs. I got him into the bed, tucked the covers around him, and he looked at me and said, "I'm so glad you're tucking me in...and not anyone else who works here." I couldn't resist. I had to keep it going. I asked, "Who else works here?" He just opened his eyes and chuckled, "I said something funny, didn't I?" It was classic. I then managed to get him to tell me all the adorable reasons he loves me before he faded into la-la land.

Since I enjoyed that conversation so much, I decided I would participate again last night when Brian had another middle-of-the-night flight. He went to bed around 3 p.m., and I was there beside him to enjoy the show. Here is a glimpse into our conversation:

K: What's your favorite meal?

B: Ooh! That's a hard one! How many courses can it be?

K: Let's put it this way, if you were on death row, what you you request as your final meal?

B: (No hesitation whatsoever) Steak and barbecue sauce. And spaghetti...because it's a different course. Oh, and I would have calamari. And fried cheese sticks. And French fries. And mild buffalo wings.

K: Is that all?

B: For dessert, I would have cheesecake.

K: Plain cheesecake?

B: Only if I had some milk to drink with it.

K: Or would you want Oreo or Butterfinger cheesecake?

B: Ooh! I'd have plain cheesecake, a Butterfinger, and a bowl of cookies and cream ice cream.

K: Well, if death row wouldn't kill you, that last meal probably would.

B: Ha ha! Okay, what would you choose as your final meal?

K: (Long pause) ...

B: Hurry up!

K: Why?

B: The guards are coming!

K: What guards?

B: The prison guards! You have to decide.

K: Oh, I get it. Because I said this was our final meal on death row, right?

B: Yeah! You better decide fast. You don't know these people!

K: Why...are they mean?

B: I don't know these people either! But you better hurry!

The hilarity ensued for another twenty minutes or so before I had to let him get some rest. The poor guy had already fallen asleep half a dozen times in the middle of our conversation. Before I left he went on and on about how much he loves me, how he thinks I'll be a great mom, how I'm a perfect wife, etc. It's a little bit sad how much I enjoy his loopy, drug-induced sentiments.

So, there you have it. I don't get to see or know what Brian does in his secret, middle-of-the-night missions (nor do I really want to), but I do get to enjoy the hours leading up to it. I'm willing to bet it's far more entertaining from my perspective. At least for those brief moments I don't have to think about the war, politics, or the great responsibilities we all have to protect and defend our freedom. I'll leave those enormous cares for another time. For those brief moments, I am completely consumed with gratitude as I consider my (semi-unconscious) hero and our amazing 11 years together, our little Chiefy sound asleep under the bed, and this precious life squirming around inside of me. That's a pilot's life for me.

WASHINGTON, D.C. — Congressman Jeff Miller (R-FL-01) issued the following statement following the passage of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act:

“After over a year of trying to ram through a trillion dollar government takeover of our health care system, Nancy Pelosi and the majority party waited until the middle of the night to take one of the most important votes in history.  This bill was written behind closed doors using backroom deals to buy enough votes to pass, and puts the future of our great country at great risk.  It does nothing to protect the sanctity of human life, will not lower health care costs for the American family, cuts Medicare by $500 billion, and raises taxes on middle-class Americans.  I strongly denounce the passage of this bill and will work for its swift repeal.”

Call me cynical, but I don't see how anything passed this quickly with this much secrecy can be a positive step forward for our nation. However, having never worked in the health field or political arena, I can only tell you what I know from experience living and working in a nation that has universal health care. It lessens the quality and the quantity of care we all receive.

In our "labor rehearsal" class last week, the nurse midwife explained that those who chose to have their baby on base would receive 24-48 hours of care after the birth. And for those who chose to have their baby at Cambrige Hospital (one of the best in this nation): two hours recovery. Two hours after giving birth, those who chose the NHS (National Health Service) would be asked to pack up and get out of there. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

Inconveniences like this are only minor compared to what is likely to come as a result of this bill. I fear that immigrants will soon flock to America they way they come to Britain for "free abortions." Let's just hope that future leaders will be able to undo some of the negative things this current Administration has chosen to implement.

...I know I do!

O Lord, our God, arise,
Scatter her enemies,
And make them fall.
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On Thee our hopes we fix,
God save us all.

...has arrested and convicted a Christian man for preaching the Word of God in the streets of Glasgow, Scotland.

According to Shawn Holes' website, he was arrested on March 18 for preaching against homosexuality in the streets of Glasgow. Here is a brief account from a fellow preacher who was there with him on Thursday:

We were preaching today on the streets and experiencing much adversity from police. We were warned not to preach against homosexuality, and if we did we could get arrested. Brother Shawn Holes was preaching when a group of young people began to shout questions at him. One question that they insisted on getting an answer was the issue of homosexuality. Shawn told them it was a sin against God, and that he loved them, and this is why he was telling them the truth. After he stepped down from preaching he was arrested and taken into custody. (Read the full account here.)

According to his website, Mr. Holes was given two options: 1) plead guilty of "some really trumped up charges and possibly pay a small fine of hopefully only 50 pounds or so and go home by Monday" or 2) plead guilty to the charges and "have to spend up to 8 weeks waiting for the trial NOT being allowed to leave the country with no guarentee of winning the case."

Shawn chose option one.

Believe it or not, there is much controversy amongst Christians both in Glasgow and in the States about whether or not this husband and father of two made the right decision. His blog post announcing his release from jail has to date spurred 81 responses - some encouraging Mr. Holes, some reprimanding him, and some downright criticizing him for his decision to plead guilty. Without proper facts to form my own opinion (since this is sadly not a newsworthy story in the UK), I choose not to cast judgement on this brother in Christ. I believe it is more beneficial to consider how in a DEMOCRATIC SOCIETY a Christian can go to jail for simply reading God's word cautioning against the sin of homosexuality (1 Corinthians 6:9-10 is exceedingly clear).

Though this is admittedly not the norm, I have personally witnessed women walking down the streets of Britain wearing absolutely nothing from the waist down (with the police only feet away). I've seen protesters in London practicing violence in the streets. I've seen drunkards throwing bottles and disturbing the peace. I've seen drunken children whose parents have allowed - if not encouraged - their excesses (children are allowed alochol "in private" from age 5). Brian and I live in a nation that not only allows abortion, it funds it! And, yet, a Christian man is jailed for reading directly from God's word.

According to various sources (again, I can find NO actual news coverage of this story), Shawn Holes was charged with "homophobia," “breach of the peace,” and "sectarianism." This FOR PREACHING FROM THE WORD OF GOD in a nation that still echoes, "God Save the Queen." Indeed. And God save Britain!

At the end of December, we went home to visit our friends and family for several weeks. While we were there, I ate enough Roly Poly, Chick-fil-A, and Moe's to satisfy an army of sumo wrestlers for a year. We also had the joy of experiencing two baby showers given by our most precious friends! One week after returning from the States, Brian and I packed up and said goodbye to Grange Barn in Walsham le Willows and hello to Barn 2 in Northwold. Not nearly as glamorous sounding, but I assure you the space we now have and the distance to base is worth the trouble (Stay tuned for a home tour of Barn 2!). We also said goodbye to our old SAAB 9-5 which decided to die forever on the side of the road at least several hours from home. We then purchased a "new," silver Honda Accord which I then proceeded to run into a gas pump last week. So, now it's silver with yellow "trim."

Now you're mostly up to speed with our lives. There's something else going on...I can't quite remember what it was...OH, YES! We're having a baby next month.

We went yesterday for our first (and probably our only) labor and delivery rehearsal. It was given by my favorite midwife - she's the one who insists that I look really cute pregnant. Wonder why I keep requesting her at all my appointments. Her name is Major Norcross, and she's incredibly knowledgeable. I tend to not trust women who have only had one kid or no kids and want to give me advice on labor. Don't talk to me unless you've had AT LEAST two - preferably four or more. Well, she's had four, and she knows her stuff.

She went through what we should bring with us to the hospital, when we should actually go to the hospital (not when contractions first start), and how things will go once we're there. She filled us in on all the gory details, many of which were completely new to Brian and me. I had no idea I might throw up during labor. Neither did Brian. He's now reconsidering his role in this whole thing. She even had some of the husbands get on the bed and demonstrate different laboring positions. It was pretty hilarious. I was just hoping the whole time that the poor guy hadn't had Taco Bell or something for dinner. That's where my mind is going these days.

Major Norcross showed us a video of several women and how they handled the labor and birthing process. If it's possible to be completely inspired, freaked out and grossed out at the same time, then that's what I was. I think Brian was just 100% freaked out. These women weren't actors. Their pain was intense, and their expressions were real. The blood and gore was real. The relief on their faces once they held their little ones was real. I was in awe of their strength, and I wanted to harness it for myself.

So, I made a decision. I'm not going to ask for the epidural in the parking lot like I originally planned. I'm going to give it a try. I like the thought of not having a numb backside for hours after having JJ (Julian James). I love the thought of being able to say I accomplished something I never thought I could do. I'm not pressuring myself or restricting myself to anything. Lord only knows what will happen that day. But I'm going to give it a try. God willing, I'll be able to say I did it. But no matter what happens, I'll still have the precious reward at the end of it all.

With only 5 weeks (give or take) to go, it's starting to all sink in. We have a crib, a car seat, and all the other baby accouterments. Sometimes I just sit in his room and look at that crib and wonder what he'll look like and how he'll sound. I wonder how our lives will change just knowing he's dependent on us for everything. I wonder why we didn't have kids when we were younger and stupider and didn't realize what an enormous responsibility this is to raise another human being.

These are just some of my sentimental, pregnant ramblings. Hopefully, I'll be able to share more as we approach "D" (Delivery) Day and after our little mini-me arrives.

I had one such seminar in Yorkshire this past Tuesday, and I must confess I wasn't quite "on my game." I do believe I gave them the information they expected and desired, but it was the delivery that I'm afraid might have suffered due to what our UK friends like to call "mumnesia." I guess the Americans would call it "momnesia"? In case you're wondering, the Brits say mum with a "u" instead of mom with an "o."

Anyhow, I thoroughly enjoyed the interacting with the group of Administrative Professionals on Tuesday, and I received some encouraging feedback. However, there was more than one occasion where I'm certain I went on a mini mental holiday for several seconds before realizing where I was and what I was supposed to say next. This kind of mental block hasn't really happened to me since the first formal presentation I gave back in 2003. The one where I blacked out because I was so nervous. The one where a room full of Rotary Club members believed I might have a stroke there in their lunch meeting. The one where my mom sat there laughing at me because she couldn't believe I was actually blacking out in front of all these professionals.

This Tuesday, I'm not sure where those few mental holidays took me (the Caribbean sounds nice), but I am convinced that it might be best for me to refrain from operating heavy machinery or performing brain surgery for the duration of this pregnancy...make that the duration of parenthood.

Shifting gears, I'd like to pose a few questions to our readers:

1) What is the dumbest thing you've ever done on accident? Extra points if they're "mumnesia" stories. Even more extra points if you forgot something important...like where you left your kids.

We have an appointment next Tuesday for our 22-week ultrasound. You know what that means? Time to quite calling the baby "it." So, my next question is:

2) Do you think we'll have a boy or girl?

I think girl. Brian thinks boy. I want to know what YOU think!

Now, I know it's the "American way" to wait until one giant food-filled occasion has passed to even think about moving on to the next one, but Christmas is different for me lately. There's a new "Morgan way" we need to discuss. First of all, there is no such thing as Thanksgiving in the UK (although, some people do celebrate the harvest in their own way). Brian and I hope to do like we did last year and have our own Thanksgiving celebration with our British neighbors. However, one side of the living/dining room will have harvest decorations, and the other side will have Christmas decorations. So, rest assured, I will still get to use my pumpkin-shaped dishes.

Second, there's just something about our journey through Bethlehem, Nazareth, and the rest of the Promised Land that makes me want to celebrate Christmas differently this year. 

Allow me to explain:

For those of you who have been to Israel and seen the places where Jesus lived out his ministry, you might feel the same as I did when we first arrived. I couldn't believe how kitsch and tacky it all felt. It seemed as though someone found or designated (i.e. made up) "the spot" they believed had some significance in the life of Jesus, they built a massive church (or three), hung millions of oil lamps and paintings of Mary, and camped outside of it to sell cheap souvenirs probably made in China. Honestly, it was a bit disturbing. If one more person asked me if I wanted a wooden baby Jesus or Mary figurine, I was going to scream! Perhaps that is why I found it very difficult to buy any souvenirs from the Holy Land. Admittedly, we did purchase a few items for family and friends, but very few.

The Stone of the AnointingAs I think back on our tours through some of the churches erected in Israel, I can't help but wonder if Jesus' words to Peter, "I will build my church," are lost on most of the individuals who visit those sites. (Notice Jesus didn't say, "I will build lots of churches.") One church that sticks out in my mind is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, located in the Old City of Jerusalem. It is believed to contain within its walls the places where Jesus was crucified and buried. Within that church is a large stone (called The Stone of the Anointing) that is said to be the place where Jesus' body was laid in preparation for burial. Although we will never know the exact details and locations, there are thousands and possibly millions who travel to this church each year to "bless" their physical objects on this stone and in other places around the church. We could hardly even approach the stone for people shoving and pushing toward it to bless their bags of souvenirs. (Click here to see a better picture of the stone.)

It was disheartening to see how these places had become shrines complete with relics, idol worship and superstitious rituals rather than sites of silent prayer and remembrance. I desperately wanted to clear away the altars, the gold and silver trinkets, the candles, the paintings, and the oil lamps and to see the earth and stone beneath it all. Next to one of the altars, I caught a brief glimpse of some stones that are believed (there's that phrase again) to mark the site of the crucifixion. Next to that rock was an altar that housed something I was unable to see. There was a man standing there who shielded it with his robe and refused to allow the women in the church to see it. Although I can venture a guess, I am uncertain of his motivations behind this behavior. But regardless of his actions or my own beliefs, I chose not to press the issue or his patience (which was obviously wearing thin).

Instead, I chose to take away from Israel what I suppose I should have expected all along: 1) lots of crowd-filled pictures of places and things I will soon fail to recognize and 2) a deeper gratitude for Jesus' miraculous birth, his perfect life and his sacrificial death.

This Christmas, I still plan to decorate our home in my usual way, and I still plan to give into the urge to shop (and shop and shop) for Christmas gifts. I've already given into the urge to listen to hours and hours of the same Christmas songs I listen to every year, so that hasn't changed. I suppose what has changed for me is a greater love and affection for the person of Jesus and a deeper desire to know him better. My prayer for my family (and for all of you as well) is that this Christmas season will draw you closer to the One who redeems us rather than the stuff that distracts us. That's the new "Morgan way."

So far our our wonderful Ancient Empires cruise, we've visited Rome, Athens, Rhodes (Greece), Kusadasi (Turkey), many cities in Israel including Nazareth, Capernaum, Bethlehem, and Jerusalem. Now, we're in Alexandria, Egypt, and tomorrow we travel to Cairo where we'll see pyramids for the first time! We'll end our whirlwind tour in Naples, Italy, and I'm looking forward to a big slice of Napoleon pizza!

We don't have much time to update you all here, but I will do my best to fill you in once we arrive back home.

I will say that this trip has been incredibly educational for both of us, and we now have a better understanding of what it must feel like to live amongst beautiful, incredibly historical landmarks with such violence and poverty all around. It's both heartbreaking and eye-opening at the same time. I can honestly say I've never been more thankful for the blessings we have been given both in the UK and the US. We have NO idea what this kind of poverty and violence feels like...and I pray we never will. I have also never been more thankful for our wonderful Savior who lived and died to bring us salvation we will never deserve. I feel more and more blessed as I look around at these individuals whose beliefs and religions are terribly constricting and ritualized. It is freeing and humbling to know that my sins were covered before the foundation of the world. Sola Deo Gloria!

Love you all and can't wait to tell you more about our fun both on and off the gorgeous Celebrity Equinox. I will say it is going to be an adjustment going back to a place where we have to cook and clean for ourselves.

Shalom (I'm still enjoying my memories of the Promised Land),

Katy & Brian

PS - We did a stupid thing last night and watched Marley & Me from our stateroom. Hormones + missing my Chiefy + stupid chick flick are a TERRIBLE combination!