December 30, 2003

• Seven Years

  
  

  

  
  

  Seven years ago today, I was having a bad day.  I started it very tired from having been on bedrest for weeks (yes, lying in bed is exhausting!) and I was feeling a bit sick.  By 7 pm I'd been through 14 hours of hard labor and it wasn't looking like there was any end in sight.  The doctor was talking about another increase in pitocin and I was thinking I could decide whether it would be best to just break down and cry or break the arm of the next nurse who pressed that button to increase the drip.  For those of you who haven't been there, pitocin is a substance distillied by certain Nazi experimenters for increasing the strength of contractions during labor - since the contractions are been artificially ramped up, the laboring woman's body doesn't produce the endorphins that "help" with labor pain.  And until you reach a certain point in the labor, the doctor generally resists giving you pain meds for fear it will "slow things down."  Yes, it was a VERY bad day.  But instead of ramping up the pitocin drip, my doctor took pity on me and ordered the epidural that I was begging for.  Within 30 minutes of getting that pain medication, Tucker was born.

  
  

  

  
  

  For some reason that I've never fully comprehended, my boys LOVE to hear the story of their births.  You'd think (or at least I would) that this would be stuff that they wouldn't care about, but no.  They like to hear it and will ask me to tell them the story as we approach the day we remember their arrival.  They prompt me for details that I leave out from time to time - "You left out the part where Daddy laughed because you remembered to bring the CD, the snacks for the coach, the clothes for the baby, and you didn't pack anything for you!" 

  
  

  

  
  

  Tucker expressed his unique personality from the moment he arrived.  Other kids had to be taught not to suck their thumbs - he had to be taught that toes are not for nibbling.

  
  

  

  
  

  I was sparing with sweets for the first year of his life, but he figured out what to do with that first birthday cake in short order and from that moment his innocence was lost.  He knew I'd been holding out on him and he's dedicated himself to always knowing where the stash is hidden. 

  
  

  

  
  

   

  
  

  Happy Birthday, Sugar Bug

  
  

  Momi loves you more than chocolate itself.

  
  

   

  
  

   

  • 3:30 pm
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