Wednesday, August 01, 2007

I think its time to go...

Oh yes, i remember the day you were born. It was quite different from your sister. No running through the last few holes of golf with Papa (taking a nice 10 on a par four 18) when Mama said, "I think its time to go...". No speeding through afternoon traffic all the way across OKC only to realize we were going to need gas BEFORE we got to the hospital. No powersliding to a stop in front of the doors of the birthing center with a team of medical personell boiling out of the doors...well, ok that part is a slight amplification of historical reality but it makes a nice mental picture. No, yours was a very pleasant drive through the semi rural backroads to the hospital on a pristine July morning in Oklahoma (as pristine as July morning's can get in OK). Very little nervous tension, now don't get me wrong...it wasn't like it was routine by now, but certainly more peaceful than the first time. I remember Mama and i even talked about how mellow it was.

I remember waking up that morning somewhere between 6:00 and 6:30 and realizing that Mama wasn't in bed, which was odd. I found her in the living room sitting on the floor with her arms on the easy chair rocking slowly side to side. I asked if she was ok, and she said, "I think its time to go..." She let me know that there was no hurry, but this was definitely the day. Obviously, we had some calls to make. I think the first we made was to Mrs. Sarah to see if she and Lizzy wouldn't mind coming over to play with Madison while we went to take care of the business at hand. They came immediately and while they were on the way we got a few things together and were ready to go by the time they arrived. On the way i could tell that the contractions were gradually intensifying but she maintained that there was no rush and she had it under control.

When we arrived at the hospital there was no mad rush like the movies or either of us freaking out or screaming at anyone or anything of that sort. It was all very casual, though i could tell by the occasional tightening of pressure on my arm from Mama's grip that things weren't so "casual" inside her body. We got into a small prep room just so the nurse could make sure that this wasn't a false alarm, which we both knew not to be the case but you know all the "procedures" medical staff must go through at times like these. Mama gets the ubiquitous, and might i add, very provocative, hospital gown on and sits down on the short exam table as regally as only a Queen can do in her final hours of pregnancy. The nurse enters takes a few vitals and then goes to check the status of the process..."Oh my, i guess you are ready! You're dialated to a 6, and the baby is at stage 1!" Mama even had the nurse fooled! I guess you could say at that point things started getting done. The nurse quickly exits, and just as quickly returns with a wheelchair and rolls Mama into a delivery room. At which point, i kinda stand aside and let the roadies get the place ready for the Lullaby Tour concert.

Of course, we still didn't know at this point what model you were so that made the staff even more excited, i guess they were just catching on to where we already were. No one, i don't think even the Dr. knew what you were, except for the ultrasound tech who had taken your picture in 4D, a brand new technology at the time, a few months earlier, and she wasn't around yet. So Mama gets pincushioned 4 or 5 times in about as many minutes, and the clock is "officially" ticking. So, by 8:15 we are in the starting gate just waiting for the bell to ring. It rang...and it kept ringing until Mama finally conceded to the epidural. I can't remember the anesthesiologists name, but i'm pretty sure Mama can, cuz that dude became her friend instantly.

We had called Grammy and Grampy on our way in, or maybe even before we left for the hospital, but they arrived in time for Grammy to come in and take a peek at Mama and say a few encouraging words. She always liked these times, and felt honored by the fact that Mama didn't mind her coming in to watch her grandbabies make their grand entrances.

And that grand entrance certainly came! And at 9 lbs. 2 oz. you were more like MUY GRANDE!!! I still remember watching your head come out and then your body, and then legs and legs and...how long is this child?!!!! You just kept coming!! And then once you were completely out 26" later, it was amazing and wonderfully intimate to hear you take your first breaths in this world, and as you did i whispered a prayer for you that Yahweh the Creator GOD would bless you and keep you and make His face shine upon you ALL the days of your life.

Now, you are THREE!!! You have been a blessing to us from that day until now. I have in the past wondered if the peace that the Lord gave us throughout the pregnancy and your birth has carried over into your daily life. Now i know. You have always been a quietly peaceful child, full of joy, which could have easily been your name since you personify it so well. Your beautiful smile is a mere bonus to the joy radiating from those huge brown windows of your soul that can melt my heart instantly when you look up at me with hands outstretched and say..."Daddy, i wanna hoadjyoo..." Your laugh is pure and cheerful, not forced or fabricated, its bright sunlight on a tiny mountain stream, its music... and you are a virtuoso.

2 comments:

Bag Blog said...

Ah Jay, you made me laugh and cry this morning. You made my skin tingle with memories of my own. What a perfect birth-day blessing!

the friendly neighborhood piper said...

Thanks MamaLou! It was so good to remember that morning and get those things written down before they get lost in time's forgotten treasure chest. I'm glad it helped you pull some of your things out of there and hold them again.