Just as words are annually eliminated from the dictionary due to some committee's opinion they are antiquated and no longer have relevance in our society's vocabulary...and just as ripped jeans, exposed bra straps and flip-flops seem to be the uniform of the day...and just as multi-tasking by carrying a cup of Starbucks and talking on a cell while shopping in a store is seen more and more... these familiar examples are signs of our 'casual times'.
What I truly can't abide, and N-E-V-E-R will, is the F-word. When did that word which was previously ostracized by decency for generations become accepted and common place? Was I asleep? In a cave? Without human contact for months? Years? Written in a novel or highlighted by graffiti on a railway car. Shouted in anger or spoken as an off-handed aside. It makes my skin crawl. It is vulgar, coarse and totally unnecessary. I hear it all the time now. So is this another result of the breaking down of social mores? Does the easing of culture and the peeled-off layers of manners introduce the crack which allows the slithering specter of crassness to infiltrate our daily existence?
I don't have that answer but if that's true I am happy to admit that I will remain very comfortably cloaked in my dinosaur skin, thank you very much. If I am out of touch so be it. Clinging to the hope that one day in this lifetime the art and skill of verbalizing an opinion or sitting down to pen a story or even perhaps by virtue of eavesdropping on a conversation at the next table will once again bear witness to the re-incorporation of the exceedingly vast reservoir of untapped descriptive vocabulary which is waiting in expectant silence for a summons to be useful once again. Wouldn't that just send a flash across the planet signaling the beginning of the end for this ugly four-letter word. (Wouldn't that be so cool? "I would love it", she smugly confesses.)
Well, perhaps one day you will be present to hear me say, "Please join me as I offer a toast!! We are gathered in this place to celebrate the expulsion of a word crafted by the attachment of four letters from our alphabet. Lift your glass and hail the void that exists in its place. May it never be filled!!" (And the crowd will go wild.....)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Just Back from Exhaling in Paradise
We hadn't been able to take a full week away from the city for over two years. With many thanks to the One Above we took a week and headed south to our favorite spot on the planet for our fifth time. Each of us were thrilled to our toes for months just savoring what was to come. Sun. Waves. Shallow tidal pools. Gulf breeze. Shells. Uncomplicated. Quiet. Quirky. Tropical. All parts of the equation that sum up to Sanibel. "What?", you say, "Florida in August?? Are you out of your minds?"
I must admit that question has been posed to us in person several times and here is my answer: It's hot here. It's hot there. You have air conditioning here. There's AC and a 24/7 breeze there. You wear sunscreen here. We wear sunscreen there. You have lots of people here. There are NO crowds there. You walk for exercise in a gym or in your neighborhood here. We walk 5 to 8 miles a day on an expanse of sandy beach that is breathtaking. You pick up your kids dirty clothes and toys here. We reach for whelks, conchs, olives, tulips, lions paws, sea urchins, sand dollars....twice a day there. You yell at the crows squawking in your yard here. We laugh at the antics of the seabirds, gulls, and pelicans there. You watch the neighbors' dog run through your yard (one more time) here. We stand in awe of the dolphins five feet away as they frolic in the surf there. You discover trash thrown in your front yard from teenagers tossing away evidence. We discover Gofer tortoises, baby sea turtles, manna rays and blue crabs literally crossing our paths there. (The son actually saw one of the islands gators out-n-about on a West Gulf Drive sidewalk but it had slipped into a marshy spot by the time we got the car turned around.) Hmmm. Which place won? 'Here' or 'there'?
We ate at some of our old favorites like Island Cow, Cheeburger Cheeburger and the Bubble Room. And discovered new ones ~ the Over Easy Cafe, Matzaluna, plus took the Lady Chadwick to Cabbage Key for a cheeseburger (of Jimmy Buffet's 'Cheeseburger in Paradise' song fame). We scoured the antique store for the first time and strolled through wonderful boutiques at Periwinkle Place and Tangiers Outlet Mall added some great finds on the mainland side of the causeway. We stopped to shop several times for groceries at Baileys, the family owned and operated grocery store on Tarpon Bay. It is wonderfully small (no football field-long aisles here), comfortable and filled with friendly employees.
We stayed at our favorite place. Off the beaten path. Perfectly located for beach access. All I need other than a wonderful bed, a great shower, and clean floors? Some quietly whooshing ceiling fans, a screened-in lanai, a well equipped kitchen, three tv's (perfect for different tastes in entertainment -- reality, sports, comedies/movies -- everyone is happy, n'est pas?), and the absence of bugs or creepy crawly things. All of the above were in place. All of us were satisfied.
So once again after 7 days we had gotten our souls renewed yet were sad to say goodbye. Guess that's a good thing, isn't it. Best sign you could hope for. Can't wait for visit number six. Anticipation is always part of the joy. Exhaling is always part of the blessing.
I must admit that question has been posed to us in person several times and here is my answer: It's hot here. It's hot there. You have air conditioning here. There's AC and a 24/7 breeze there. You wear sunscreen here. We wear sunscreen there. You have lots of people here. There are NO crowds there. You walk for exercise in a gym or in your neighborhood here. We walk 5 to 8 miles a day on an expanse of sandy beach that is breathtaking. You pick up your kids dirty clothes and toys here. We reach for whelks, conchs, olives, tulips, lions paws, sea urchins, sand dollars....twice a day there. You yell at the crows squawking in your yard here. We laugh at the antics of the seabirds, gulls, and pelicans there. You watch the neighbors' dog run through your yard (one more time) here. We stand in awe of the dolphins five feet away as they frolic in the surf there. You discover trash thrown in your front yard from teenagers tossing away evidence. We discover Gofer tortoises, baby sea turtles, manna rays and blue crabs literally crossing our paths there. (The son actually saw one of the islands gators out-n-about on a West Gulf Drive sidewalk but it had slipped into a marshy spot by the time we got the car turned around.) Hmmm. Which place won? 'Here' or 'there'?
We ate at some of our old favorites like Island Cow, Cheeburger Cheeburger and the Bubble Room. And discovered new ones ~ the Over Easy Cafe, Matzaluna, plus took the Lady Chadwick to Cabbage Key for a cheeseburger (of Jimmy Buffet's 'Cheeseburger in Paradise' song fame). We scoured the antique store for the first time and strolled through wonderful boutiques at Periwinkle Place and Tangiers Outlet Mall added some great finds on the mainland side of the causeway. We stopped to shop several times for groceries at Baileys, the family owned and operated grocery store on Tarpon Bay. It is wonderfully small (no football field-long aisles here), comfortable and filled with friendly employees.
We stayed at our favorite place. Off the beaten path. Perfectly located for beach access. All I need other than a wonderful bed, a great shower, and clean floors? Some quietly whooshing ceiling fans, a screened-in lanai, a well equipped kitchen, three tv's (perfect for different tastes in entertainment -- reality, sports, comedies/movies -- everyone is happy, n'est pas?), and the absence of bugs or creepy crawly things. All of the above were in place. All of us were satisfied.
So once again after 7 days we had gotten our souls renewed yet were sad to say goodbye. Guess that's a good thing, isn't it. Best sign you could hope for. Can't wait for visit number six. Anticipation is always part of the joy. Exhaling is always part of the blessing.
Monday, August 17, 2009
From Then....To Now
When I look at my son today I see a tall, cute college guy who still exhibits that mischievous gleam in his eye, has the ability to make us cr-a-zy, and gives us moments of shining promise for the man is he becoming.
Of all the times I shared with my son by myself the character he created by himself after a bath one night out-of-the-blue are some of my fondest. He climbed out of the tub, curled himself into a tight little ball on the floor and proceeded to totally cover himself with a towel. I used his name something like "Alex, let's get you dried off." He responded in a very low, deep voice, "I'm not Alex." "Oh, I'm sorry! Who are you?" "I am Bob the Lump." I was so surprised. I just giggled went right along with this fabulous, creative turn in the emerging personality huddled in front of me on the tile. I properly introduced myself to 'Bob" and that began a friendship with a facet of my son's imagination which appeared after every bath for a very long time. Those were wonderful moments.
Now I look at him and see my temperament and his father's ability to argue extemporaneously.
I see my artistic slant and his dad's sports expertise. But more importantly I see his own big heart, his stubbornness, his wonderful sense of humor, his need to be taken seriously. I see a relentless three year old now a young adult who will not only survive but will thrive and succeed as a strong Christian bound to make his own personal mark on this world he embraces with arms wide open. And isn't that the grandest blessing of all.
Of all the times I shared with my son by myself the character he created by himself after a bath one night out-of-the-blue are some of my fondest. He climbed out of the tub, curled himself into a tight little ball on the floor and proceeded to totally cover himself with a towel. I used his name something like "Alex, let's get you dried off." He responded in a very low, deep voice, "I'm not Alex." "Oh, I'm sorry! Who are you?" "I am Bob the Lump." I was so surprised. I just giggled went right along with this fabulous, creative turn in the emerging personality huddled in front of me on the tile. I properly introduced myself to 'Bob" and that began a friendship with a facet of my son's imagination which appeared after every bath for a very long time. Those were wonderful moments.
Now I look at him and see my temperament and his father's ability to argue extemporaneously.
I see my artistic slant and his dad's sports expertise. But more importantly I see his own big heart, his stubbornness, his wonderful sense of humor, his need to be taken seriously. I see a relentless three year old now a young adult who will not only survive but will thrive and succeed as a strong Christian bound to make his own personal mark on this world he embraces with arms wide open. And isn't that the grandest blessing of all.
Favorite Quotes
I kept a daily diary on our son for the first two years of his life. From then through middle school I wrote frequently just not everyday. The high school years were busy and I made notes of the special times and signs of maturity that had begun to peek through adding hope and senses of accomplishment to his progress.
This gift of ours has given us endless days of laughter and frustration. Pride and humility. Stress and joy. What most parents experience . Here are some sparkling examples of how he has enriched our days and made it all worthwhile.
"You know Christ the Lord is Jesus' nickname."
"Great. My mother is losing her mind." (This after he asked me is I remember something that he was trying to explain which supposedly had happened some time in the past and I had NO idea what he was talking about.)
"That's the Civil War. Lots of Americans fought there and lots died. They went up to heaven and turned into angels and one got to be the Tooth Fairy." (A TV commercial promoting a new Civil War documentary caught his attention.)
"That's just the way the world works. (I made the observation that he was playing with a boy he was very angry with the day before.)
"Because it takes too much of my energies to think of it."(when asked by his dad why he couldn't hit the baseball each time it was tossed to him at age 5.)
What a hoot. Made it all worthwhile.
This gift of ours has given us endless days of laughter and frustration. Pride and humility. Stress and joy. What most parents experience . Here are some sparkling examples of how he has enriched our days and made it all worthwhile.
"You know Christ the Lord is Jesus' nickname."
"Great. My mother is losing her mind." (This after he asked me is I remember something that he was trying to explain which supposedly had happened some time in the past and I had NO idea what he was talking about.)
"That's the Civil War. Lots of Americans fought there and lots died. They went up to heaven and turned into angels and one got to be the Tooth Fairy." (A TV commercial promoting a new Civil War documentary caught his attention.)
"That's just the way the world works. (I made the observation that he was playing with a boy he was very angry with the day before.)
"Because it takes too much of my energies to think of it."(when asked by his dad why he couldn't hit the baseball each time it was tossed to him at age 5.)
What a hoot. Made it all worthwhile.
Favorite Stories
(**NOTE: My grand plan to write a post each day prior to my son's birthday was interrupted by the "modem not communicating with the server" for the three days prior to our departure and then the actual onset of our week-long family vacation. Now back, the son is officially an adult and I am ready to write the three remaining entries! Thanks for your patience and understanding.)
While the child grew up the general greeting I received at work was not "How are you?" or "Good Morning!"...it was "We want another story!" and ""What happened yesterday??". Our son had a knack for finding himself as the poster child for behavior that all other mothers loved to hear about (and were secretly thrilled that it was NOT their child!!!). I laughed along with the rest of them. Couldn't really do much else...and heck, it made life interesting and most of his scrapes were funny (at least after the shock wore off).
Some of my favorites:
Soon after his enrollment in a very well known and hallowed child care program in our community he decided to test his balance. He climbed up on a little wooden chair to see if he could stand on the top. Alas, he could not and four stitches ensued.
As we all know children at the age of 3 or 4 tend to say what they think or feel. They are curious and blunt and make verbal observations without any qualms at all. One afternoon when I picked him up at the same care center one of the teachers came over and requested a moment of my time. She was quite prime and proper ( a little too un-bending in my opinion to be with little people all day long if you get my drift). She quietly told me that my son had made a loud statement about a lady's anatomy when this mother who was very well endowed had come to get her child. I was quite adamantly told that those types of statements were frowned upon at the school and would not be tolerated. I just looked at her and said, "Beth, do you really believe that at home my husband and I teach our son that those bold announcements are both polite and acceptable? Really? Am I hearing your message correctly? Because if I am I want to erase that pre-conceived notion from your head and assure you that he would be quickly censored and asked to give an apology to the subject of his statement." She just looked down her nose at me with the most aghast expression on her face.
Another time was during a summer daycare situation. He was in an inaugural program at his elementary school and had decided to see if he could toss his freshly crafted playdoh up to the high ceiling of the auditorium/general assembly room. And guess what?? He could! And it stuck! That action prompted a call from the principal herself. Now what you need to understand here is that our student was not one of her honor program students -- thus she didn't really have the time nor the inclination to have anything to do with him. In a voice dripping with pure condescention she explained that this behavior was simply not allowed and punishment would follow. The janitor was able by way of a very tall ladder to clean the goo off the tiles, leaving just a slight stain that would not call attention to itself if you didn't know it existed. I just knew that pitching arm would be tested one day and prove its true potential -- 'course I couldn't tell her that!! And, yes, my son received discipline at home and at school (even though we laughed and shook our heads once again at the colorful antics of an active young boy).
These are just three of the many, many stories that filled our youngster's life. As you can imagine those years were an unending stream of trials and triumphs.... lectures and hugs. What a kid.
While the child grew up the general greeting I received at work was not "How are you?" or "Good Morning!"...it was "We want another story!" and ""What happened yesterday??". Our son had a knack for finding himself as the poster child for behavior that all other mothers loved to hear about (and were secretly thrilled that it was NOT their child!!!). I laughed along with the rest of them. Couldn't really do much else...and heck, it made life interesting and most of his scrapes were funny (at least after the shock wore off).
Some of my favorites:
Soon after his enrollment in a very well known and hallowed child care program in our community he decided to test his balance. He climbed up on a little wooden chair to see if he could stand on the top. Alas, he could not and four stitches ensued.
As we all know children at the age of 3 or 4 tend to say what they think or feel. They are curious and blunt and make verbal observations without any qualms at all. One afternoon when I picked him up at the same care center one of the teachers came over and requested a moment of my time. She was quite prime and proper ( a little too un-bending in my opinion to be with little people all day long if you get my drift). She quietly told me that my son had made a loud statement about a lady's anatomy when this mother who was very well endowed had come to get her child. I was quite adamantly told that those types of statements were frowned upon at the school and would not be tolerated. I just looked at her and said, "Beth, do you really believe that at home my husband and I teach our son that those bold announcements are both polite and acceptable? Really? Am I hearing your message correctly? Because if I am I want to erase that pre-conceived notion from your head and assure you that he would be quickly censored and asked to give an apology to the subject of his statement." She just looked down her nose at me with the most aghast expression on her face.
Another time was during a summer daycare situation. He was in an inaugural program at his elementary school and had decided to see if he could toss his freshly crafted playdoh up to the high ceiling of the auditorium/general assembly room. And guess what?? He could! And it stuck! That action prompted a call from the principal herself. Now what you need to understand here is that our student was not one of her honor program students -- thus she didn't really have the time nor the inclination to have anything to do with him. In a voice dripping with pure condescention she explained that this behavior was simply not allowed and punishment would follow. The janitor was able by way of a very tall ladder to clean the goo off the tiles, leaving just a slight stain that would not call attention to itself if you didn't know it existed. I just knew that pitching arm would be tested one day and prove its true potential -- 'course I couldn't tell her that!! And, yes, my son received discipline at home and at school (even though we laughed and shook our heads once again at the colorful antics of an active young boy).
These are just three of the many, many stories that filled our youngster's life. As you can imagine those years were an unending stream of trials and triumphs.... lectures and hugs. What a kid.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
This is Nothing Like Babysitting
I did lots and lots of babysitting as a teenager. Thought I could rely on those years of training with all the kids I had taken care of along the way. HA!! That gap of some fifteen years in addition to skills now gone rusty made bringing our little bundle home a whole new ballgame. Kind of like being a grandparent. Love the grandkids. Spoil the grandkids. Send them home. Watch the neighbor's son and daughter for a few hours. Play. Read. Color a few pictures. Go home. No muss. No fuss.
First of all let me state that if EVER I hear someone in the future say that a new mother will know what an infant needs by the sound of their cry I will call them CRAZY to their face. I had no idea if our son was hungry or wet or mad or sad or any of that. I just went down that checklist in the last sentance and tried to figure it out. Then I kept him all wrapped up like a papoose because that's what they did in the hospital....until my mother calmly asked me if I walked around the house tightly wrapped up in a blanket. And I scrubbed everything 2 or 3 or 4 times to make sure whatever came in contract with the baby was germ-free. To which a good friend calmly said, and I quote: "Babies survive in Ethiopia, you know." So I only scrubbed two times after that.
I wasn't very good at sharing either. Especially at first. I was extremely possessive. Didn't let family members or friends hold him for 'too' long a time. Made me nervous. I eventually learned to 'exhale' and got comfortable with the fact that those who wanted to have him in their arms for a while would be extra-special careful. Babies do that to people. They bring out the best in us.
We read and we rocked. Bathed him and sang to him. Gasped the first time he did the little boy arch of water during a diaper change....and laughed whenever it happened again because we were prepared with a quick washcloth. We took pictures. We would stare and study him, memorizing each tiny feature. Every little expression. Listened to all the sounds he made. Rained kisses on his soft cheeks and downy head. Those were the moments I knew it didn't matter if I remembered all the details from my Red Cross Babysitting Class lessons. What we did know was that a far greater hand was leading us and teaching us. What we didn't know was that He was also slowly preparing us for the adventures yet to be.....
First of all let me state that if EVER I hear someone in the future say that a new mother will know what an infant needs by the sound of their cry I will call them CRAZY to their face. I had no idea if our son was hungry or wet or mad or sad or any of that. I just went down that checklist in the last sentance and tried to figure it out. Then I kept him all wrapped up like a papoose because that's what they did in the hospital....until my mother calmly asked me if I walked around the house tightly wrapped up in a blanket. And I scrubbed everything 2 or 3 or 4 times to make sure whatever came in contract with the baby was germ-free. To which a good friend calmly said, and I quote: "Babies survive in Ethiopia, you know." So I only scrubbed two times after that.
I wasn't very good at sharing either. Especially at first. I was extremely possessive. Didn't let family members or friends hold him for 'too' long a time. Made me nervous. I eventually learned to 'exhale' and got comfortable with the fact that those who wanted to have him in their arms for a while would be extra-special careful. Babies do that to people. They bring out the best in us.
We read and we rocked. Bathed him and sang to him. Gasped the first time he did the little boy arch of water during a diaper change....and laughed whenever it happened again because we were prepared with a quick washcloth. We took pictures. We would stare and study him, memorizing each tiny feature. Every little expression. Listened to all the sounds he made. Rained kisses on his soft cheeks and downy head. Those were the moments I knew it didn't matter if I remembered all the details from my Red Cross Babysitting Class lessons. What we did know was that a far greater hand was leading us and teaching us. What we didn't know was that He was also slowly preparing us for the adventures yet to be.....
In Control
About 4am the contractions started. I was making sure my bag was packed, the house was neat, the baby's room ready. I was wide awake. My husband calmly went back to bed. From my perspective I thought he should be as wound-up as I was. Looking from his perspective it was very early and there was still time left to catch a little more sleep. Who could argue?? Everything was going as planned so let him sleep!
Called the doctor appropriately when the labor pains were getting closer. Waited for their call back. Waited. Waited. And waited some more. Finally my husband called the office ~ "OH! We thought you said a different last name and we have soooo many of those in our system that we couldn't possibly have called them all. Thank you for calling back." Now I am listening to this conversation thinking this is going well so far. Helloooo. She asked him which one of the two hospitals, where the OB/GYN group delivered, we would like to go to. And my logical husband replied we would go wherever the doctor was (do we hear a 'dah'??) that morning as he repeated that my labor pains were now less than ten minutes apart.
After getting that all straightened out he put me in the car and off we went. This begins my favorite part of the story. The shortest route was down a extremely well traveled street in our community that desperately needed repair. Think corregated cardboard. Bump-bump....Bump-bump....Bump-bump. Hear my poor driver apologizing after every Bump-bump. And me telling him, keeping in the same rhythm as in my breathing techniques, that everything was okay. It wasn't his fault. That he was doing a fine job. I was calm and cool and supportive on the outside (while secretly hoping after every rise in that asphalt the baby didn't decide to pop out on the inside!!!).
He dropped me off at the hospital's lobby so he could get the car parked in the adjacent garage. What you have to picture and understand here is that the hospital's lobby and attached corridors were under construction. We're talking caution tape and bare drywall. The only other person in this entire place is a woman seated at a little desk who must have been there to give directions, whatever. I have no idea what her use was. All I can tell you is that she paid absolutely no attention to this very pregnant, obviously near birth mother-to-be. I should have been screaming to get her attention or something. But noooooo. Not me. I was in control. I didn't need her...or a wheelchair....or an attendant to push me to Labor and Delivery...or anybody or anything. Finally my spouse rushed through the door and led me toward the elevator. For this 'visual' think of the old Batman TV show where he and Robin would "walk" up the side of buildings by pulling themselves up a rope (remember that??). Now picture me pulling myself down the hallway hand-over-hand on the handrail. Seriously. The thought went through my mind that this was it. The headlines in the next morning edition of the newspaper would read: "Baby Shoots Out Like a Stick of Butter in Hospital Hallway". But I was in control.
Long story short. I was put in a delivery room, took out my sour cherry sucker, took two licks and made to the bathroom sink before I threw up (already in Transition and the stomach wasn't interested in refreshments). The nurse left me alone for 45 minutes. Sauntered in (finally) to fill out a form. The husband was giving wrong answers so I interrupted in-between my hee-hee's and ho-ho's (heck I was so lost I just decided to make whatever noise made sense to me and kept my mind off the contractions!) to give the correct answers. Never raised my voice. Never shouted any insults. I was going to be a sweet loving lady through the entire ordeal until.....she told me to turn on my side which I did. Then she asked me if I felt like pushing. PUSHING?? That was it. This was my first baby. I had no idea if I felt like pushing or not. But I certainly felt like punching 'Nurse Rachet" then, that's for sure!! So she decided to meander over to do a little checking. And what do you know?? "The baby's crowning!!" Her eyes got real big and she turned on her heel to rush over to push the double doors wide open. "I NEED HELP IN HERE!!!" she yelled down the hall. Instantly there was a doctor, an intern, a nurse in the room. The lights were turned down. The team got down to business and after four pushes and a little over six hours after the labor started I presented a darling baby boy to a very proud father.
My first thought after I got to hold him? I wondered what his voice would sound like. Second? I realized I felt perfectly normal as if I had never been pregnant. Third? I couldn't wait to have grandchildren. Fourth? I was starved and steak sure sounded good. Fifth? Control was a very good thing.
Called the doctor appropriately when the labor pains were getting closer. Waited for their call back. Waited. Waited. And waited some more. Finally my husband called the office ~ "OH! We thought you said a different last name and we have soooo many of those in our system that we couldn't possibly have called them all. Thank you for calling back." Now I am listening to this conversation thinking this is going well so far. Helloooo. She asked him which one of the two hospitals, where the OB/GYN group delivered, we would like to go to. And my logical husband replied we would go wherever the doctor was (do we hear a 'dah'??) that morning as he repeated that my labor pains were now less than ten minutes apart.
After getting that all straightened out he put me in the car and off we went. This begins my favorite part of the story. The shortest route was down a extremely well traveled street in our community that desperately needed repair. Think corregated cardboard. Bump-bump....Bump-bump....Bump-bump. Hear my poor driver apologizing after every Bump-bump. And me telling him, keeping in the same rhythm as in my breathing techniques, that everything was okay. It wasn't his fault. That he was doing a fine job. I was calm and cool and supportive on the outside (while secretly hoping after every rise in that asphalt the baby didn't decide to pop out on the inside!!!).
He dropped me off at the hospital's lobby so he could get the car parked in the adjacent garage. What you have to picture and understand here is that the hospital's lobby and attached corridors were under construction. We're talking caution tape and bare drywall. The only other person in this entire place is a woman seated at a little desk who must have been there to give directions, whatever. I have no idea what her use was. All I can tell you is that she paid absolutely no attention to this very pregnant, obviously near birth mother-to-be. I should have been screaming to get her attention or something. But noooooo. Not me. I was in control. I didn't need her...or a wheelchair....or an attendant to push me to Labor and Delivery...or anybody or anything. Finally my spouse rushed through the door and led me toward the elevator. For this 'visual' think of the old Batman TV show where he and Robin would "walk" up the side of buildings by pulling themselves up a rope (remember that??). Now picture me pulling myself down the hallway hand-over-hand on the handrail. Seriously. The thought went through my mind that this was it. The headlines in the next morning edition of the newspaper would read: "Baby Shoots Out Like a Stick of Butter in Hospital Hallway". But I was in control.
Long story short. I was put in a delivery room, took out my sour cherry sucker, took two licks and made to the bathroom sink before I threw up (already in Transition and the stomach wasn't interested in refreshments). The nurse left me alone for 45 minutes. Sauntered in (finally) to fill out a form. The husband was giving wrong answers so I interrupted in-between my hee-hee's and ho-ho's (heck I was so lost I just decided to make whatever noise made sense to me and kept my mind off the contractions!) to give the correct answers. Never raised my voice. Never shouted any insults. I was going to be a sweet loving lady through the entire ordeal until.....she told me to turn on my side which I did. Then she asked me if I felt like pushing. PUSHING?? That was it. This was my first baby. I had no idea if I felt like pushing or not. But I certainly felt like punching 'Nurse Rachet" then, that's for sure!! So she decided to meander over to do a little checking. And what do you know?? "The baby's crowning!!" Her eyes got real big and she turned on her heel to rush over to push the double doors wide open. "I NEED HELP IN HERE!!!" she yelled down the hall. Instantly there was a doctor, an intern, a nurse in the room. The lights were turned down. The team got down to business and after four pushes and a little over six hours after the labor started I presented a darling baby boy to a very proud father.
My first thought after I got to hold him? I wondered what his voice would sound like. Second? I realized I felt perfectly normal as if I had never been pregnant. Third? I couldn't wait to have grandchildren. Fourth? I was starved and steak sure sounded good. Fifth? Control was a very good thing.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
So If You Had A Girl, What Would You Name Her?
Yep. That's how my husband broached the subject of having a baby. We were driving down to Myrtle Beach and we had just gone throught the kink on I-77 in North Carolina continuing south. We had been married ten years and had decided early on we would not have children. We would spoil our nieces and nephews and be a career-oriented couple. You can picture the look on my face, I'm sure. Sort of the mixture of "Who are you and what have you done with my husband?" and "Are you crazy??!?" Well, I went along with the program and in about fifteen minutes we had a name. Morgan (because we both liked it) Margaret (after his very special paternal grandmother). The surprising part was with our last name starting with an S not every first name flows well with it and we made short work of finding . I, of course, was thrilled with her would-be monogram knowing it would look classic. Clean. Plus I knew what my nickname for her would be: M&M's. Perfect for a chocoholic's daughter, don't you think!! The boy's name, on the other hand, took us 14 months to choose. (The cool part of that was that he has grown up to like his name. He has shun every nickname I have ever tried to hang on him.)
I loved being pregnant. Really and truly I did. I had never felt healthier. I ate well. Never, not for one second, felt nauseous. I was just tickled to be carrying this new life inside of me.
Had some bumps along the way with the standard tests given at certain weeks. Even got a call from my OB/GYN on a Friday night to give me the results. After I shook off the shock that hit me I had enough wits about me to ask him one question: If I was his wife what would he tell me to do. He gave his answer after asking me one question to answer first. My husband and I accepted his advice deciding not to have further testing done. With God's hand that recommendation was sound and we did not regret our response to the doctor's essential inquiry.
I was put to 'sofa' rest (after a promise made and some gentle persuation ~ the bed rest was driving me crazy!) with 7 weeks to go. How long I had been have labor pains I will never know. I just chalked up the little pains and twinges to indigestion or just regularly expected pregnancy 'stuff'. Oops!! Guess this naive mother-to-be thought she was just doing fine and dandy and had no need to bother anyone. My husband was traveling 4 days a week so the dog kept me company, my grandmother called every afternoon to check on me, the postman was especially attentive helping me any way he could (wasn't that nice??), friends brought meals. Life was good as long as I did what I was supposed to do.
The day we became parents started early for me. I woke up at 3:15am and I remember thinking I should change my sleeping position from my back to my side. As soon as I did I had this instantaneous flash that I had to get to the bathroom. FAST. Don't think about it. Just move. I listened to my instinct and I was just sitting down when my water broke. The first thought that shattered my brain? I was going to be a mother. Today. TODAY!! Life would never be the same. Ever. And I have been so thankful for every single day.
I loved being pregnant. Really and truly I did. I had never felt healthier. I ate well. Never, not for one second, felt nauseous. I was just tickled to be carrying this new life inside of me.
Had some bumps along the way with the standard tests given at certain weeks. Even got a call from my OB/GYN on a Friday night to give me the results. After I shook off the shock that hit me I had enough wits about me to ask him one question: If I was his wife what would he tell me to do. He gave his answer after asking me one question to answer first. My husband and I accepted his advice deciding not to have further testing done. With God's hand that recommendation was sound and we did not regret our response to the doctor's essential inquiry.
I was put to 'sofa' rest (after a promise made and some gentle persuation ~ the bed rest was driving me crazy!) with 7 weeks to go. How long I had been have labor pains I will never know. I just chalked up the little pains and twinges to indigestion or just regularly expected pregnancy 'stuff'. Oops!! Guess this naive mother-to-be thought she was just doing fine and dandy and had no need to bother anyone. My husband was traveling 4 days a week so the dog kept me company, my grandmother called every afternoon to check on me, the postman was especially attentive helping me any way he could (wasn't that nice??), friends brought meals. Life was good as long as I did what I was supposed to do.
The day we became parents started early for me. I woke up at 3:15am and I remember thinking I should change my sleeping position from my back to my side. As soon as I did I had this instantaneous flash that I had to get to the bathroom. FAST. Don't think about it. Just move. I listened to my instinct and I was just sitting down when my water broke. The first thought that shattered my brain? I was going to be a mother. Today. TODAY!! Life would never be the same. Ever. And I have been so thankful for every single day.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
We Made It!! Woo-Hoo!!!!
My son will be twenty-one VERY soon. With a full heart, a happy smile and a loud "Alleluia" we made it. We have reached the milestone. Believe me there were days.... months..... and the entire year of the age of three.....that I had my doubts. I am NOT kidding you. My dentist at the time even told me that stress was a major cause of the two new cavities he found. (That alone put me over the top. I also found a new dentist. Immediately.)
The next seven days I am dedicating to my child and will share some highlights of his 'beginning' and his life journey up to this point. I'm sitting here now smiling as I remember my personal favorites. All I can say is God in His infinite wisdom knew that one child (yes, I was hoping for twins) was what we could handle so with a touch of humor He bundled a whole lot into this darling cute little package we were given. The up-side is that we haven't been commited yet to a sanitarium on a permanent basis. The down-side? I guess there's still time....
The next seven days I am dedicating to my child and will share some highlights of his 'beginning' and his life journey up to this point. I'm sitting here now smiling as I remember my personal favorites. All I can say is God in His infinite wisdom knew that one child (yes, I was hoping for twins) was what we could handle so with a touch of humor He bundled a whole lot into this darling cute little package we were given. The up-side is that we haven't been commited yet to a sanitarium on a permanent basis. The down-side? I guess there's still time....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)