Skip to main content

Celebrate!



Twenty-seven years ago, I gave birth to a human being. That's what I tell my son all the time. I went in blindly at all of twenty-two-years-old. I naively believed that natural childbirth meant you have the baby the natural way - meaning like a human being. Duh! Don't tell me. I know how ridiculously ridiculous that was. I should've asked someone.

Well, when the time came at precisely ten p.m., right after a movie starring Pam Dawber started on t.v., my water broke. I didn't know that at the time. I mean, I felt something - obviously - but I didn't know that's what it was. I thought my bladder had given out. Again, I wasn't the brightest bulb in the box.

I quickly jumped into gear to clean up the mess and change clothes. After that, I marched my ignorant behind to the kitchen to grab the food I'd been craving for hours - peanut butter, chocolate chips, and tea.

For the record, anyone who knows me knows tea has never been my beverage of choice. (No offense tea drinkers. The coffee gods found me first.)

I ate that gastric disaster in a flash, then the contractions hit me. Hard!

At the time, my husband was deployed overseas. I'd just moved into a new house. My little sister (She was about 13 at the time.) was visiting over her holiday break from Spain. Let's just say, no one really thought things through in this situation.

Of course, neither of us had any idea what to do. All I knew is that those beginning labor pains were no joke. They hurt!

Somehow - I don't remember how exactly - one of us called a friend. She showed up, calm as a cucumber and a little disturbed by the peanut butter/chocolate concoction. She drove me to the hospital. My labor pains went through the roof.

I have a distinct memory of begging her to take me to McDonald's, not the hospital. Don't ask me why because I have no idea what was wrong with me. (Do I need to mention how dumb I was in those days?)

By the time we arrived at the hospital, I'd realized my little sister wasn't with us.

WE FORGOT MY SISTER!

Let me just say panic and labor pains make for a deadly combination. I refused to let anyone touch me until someone went to get my sister and assured me she was fine.

Now, I don't recall many of the other events in order. I was a little preoccupied, but I do remember that I had a male nurse and I may or may not have been the nicest patient he's ever had.

I screamed bloody murder. I said things I'd never said before that day. I went berserk.

That poor nurse tolerated me like a champ - I think. I know a few minutes before it was time to push, he held me under a warm shower and told me I was going to have the baby, I wasn't going to get McDonald's until I "mommed up", and no, he would not let me change my mind.

To that patient and stern man, I'm sorry for anything I said or did that night. The good news is the kid I swore was gas and not a baby is alive and well. I didn't screw him up too badly. You, sir, are an angel, but a word of advice, the next time I demand McDonald's, get it for me.

Happy Birthday, Baby Boy/Man!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

12 Days of Christmas Book Giveaways

It's giveaway time! It's day three of the 12 Days of Christmas Book Giveaways and that means it's my day to host a giveaway. Two winners will win an e-copy of my new release 'Tis the Sneezin' ! (Winners will be chosen on Christmas Day 12/25/15.) Here's the book:  http://amzn.to/1TK0V1v Tis the Sneezin' Description: Traveling nurse Mercy Mares is up to her eyeballs in donations for the town's annual holiday celebration. Every nook and cranny of her house and all of her friend's and neighbor's houses are overflowing with gifts for ill children in her local hospital. It's all she can do to keep track of what is what and who is who.  On the night that she and her merry band of helpers are to deliver these gifts, everything, including gifts she bought for her loved ones, simply disappear without a trace.  Now, Mercy has to find the thief before those who appointed her this year's Mrs. Claus find out that they're missing an

Commit to your Goals

It's that time of year. We all know it's coming. Many of us plan for it, get our one word ready, buy new planners, make to-do lists, do all the things necessary to prepare for what's next. I do. December was a race to the finish to check those things I'd ignored in 2019 off my to-do list. I made so much progress. I was a productivity maven. I was ready for the new year. Then, 2020 happened and a long Christmas break for the kids hit me like a bag of bricks to the bag of the head. Ouch! I had goals. They were multiplying. (Sing to the tune of You're the One That I Want from Grease.) The problem was even though I'd spent so much time in 2019 telling myself how productive and on task I'd be in 2020, I didn't think realistically about how "busy" (she says in quotes because no one should ever be too busy to pursue their goals) my life truly is. Here's the reality. It's cliche, I know, but if you want something bad enough, y

What to Read Next

  What kind of books do you like to read? Do you only read one genre or are you like me? I'm an eclectic reader. If it sounds good, will teach me something, make me feel something, will make me cry, laugh, sing, or all the above, I'm all over it. Don't tell anyone I told you this. I'll deny it in court. (Kidding!) But I have two Kindles that have over 3000 books each on them. That's just the beginning. I also have what I estimate to be a few thousand books I've read, started to read, haven't read yet, or forgot I owned all over my house. I kid you not. Our house has more books than our local library. My book obsession is real. With all these books, you'd think finding my next read would be easy, but you think wrong. I can make anything complicated. True story. I don't know about you, but my eclectic reading taste stems from needing to be "in the mood" for a specific genre or writing style. Like many people, at the beginning of the year, I a