My Baby Turns 3!

To my Gregory, on your 3rd birthday.
Three weeks ago, on Rebecca's birthday, I wrote the story of her birth. Today, in honor of your third birthday, here is your story.

It was Monday morning, August 14th, and I knew I was going to give birth very soon. I grew amply with my first baby, but with my second I was absolutely enormous. A lot of women exaggerate this, but I really don't feel that is the case here. In early June, when asked how long I had to go, I would respond 'two months' at which point, the inquiring party would laugh at me and say something such as "you're going to have a long summer". In my head, I was thankful they didn't know I had rounded down, and actually had two months and three weeks to go. By mid-August, I couldn't bend over to pick something up without losing my balance and falling forward. I had long since outgrown my pregnancy bathing suit, and most people were asking me if twins were expected. For several weeks, I had experienced irregular cramps, but they were becoming more frequent and stronger. Rebecca was born seventeen days early, and I advised my boss to get a replacement contractor in early. Somehow, here it was, seventeen days before my due date, and replacement was due for his first day at work. This Monday my plan was to spend the whole day training him. So despite some telltale signs, I made the hour and a half drive from Holden to Waltham, and worked a long day, trying to show the poor guy everything. By six o'clock that night, I was done. Sitting at the conference table with the contractor, I noticed some of the cramps felt more intense. On my way through the mostly empty parking lot, I had one strong enough to stop me in my tracks until it passed. I decided it was probably time to start watching the car radio clock to see if the pains had developed any kind of pattern.

You have to understand the logistics. I worked in Waltham, was due to deliver at Emerson Hospital in Concord, and lived in Holden. So basically, I drove past Emerson about fifteen minutes into my hour and a half commute. As I started down Route 20, I found the pains were coming roughly every four minutes. I contemplated driving the remaining hour home, and then having to turn around and drive another hour back to the hospital. This option wasn't at all appealing, so I called my doctor. We decided, since I was practically driving past the hospital anyway, I might as well stop in and have the nurses check me out. I parked in the Emerson parking garage and waddled into the maternity ward. The pain was not as intense as my first birth, and there was still no fluid leakage, but I really didn't want to miss that epidural window.

Although I wasn't feeling them as much, the nurses felt my contractions were regular enough that I should stay a while. I called Greg who had already packed up Rebecca, and told him to come on in. As I waited for him, my water broke, and the labor came on full strength. We're talking fast and furious, one intense contraction on top of the next. My first act upon arriving at the hospital, was to fill out my epidural paperwork (see previous post about first birth). So as Greg rushed to my parent's to drop off Rebecca, I received that beautiful six inch needle stab in the spine. Things were moving very fast, and for a while we weren't sure Greg would make it in time. He did, and after a little unexpected pushing (the baby was face up), there was my beautiful eight pound, one ounce baby boy. That's right - eight pound, one ounce, seventeen days early. Thank you for not coming two weeks late. He had the softest, roundest little cheeks, and like his sister he didn't cry on his entry to the world. Some fluid was stuck in his lungs because of his face up arrival, and they put him into a special room for observation overnight. The only family in the room was Greg and my Mom. My Dad was watching Rebecca, and things went so fast my sister, who was coming from Bath, Maine, missed it by ten minutes.

That's it. You know how it goes - stop on the way home from work, pick up a pizza, have a baby. I can't believe three hectic, joyful years have raced by since that night. Gregory, you might be turning into a little man, but you'll always be my baby.