I can't believe you turn 21 today. Seems like only yesterday I was projectile vomiting all over the hospital bed just hours before you were born into this world.
I remember the day. June 7, 1992...
Although you were planned, you were also a bit of a surprise. It was a Sunday morning, two weeks before your due date, and my water broke unexpectedly while I was on the toilet. I went to Dad's side of the bed to wake him up. I simply said, "My water broke."
He was surprised as you can imagine, and he said to me, "Shu'dup."
But I didn’t shut up. This was the real deal. My water had broken two weeks early. So we called the doctor to see what we needed to do -- this was new to us. I ate something per the doctor’s instructions and laid back down on my side, but still didn't feel you moving. We worried a bit and called the doc again and then went to the hospital (frankly I don't remember which hospital, please forgive me.)
We were admitted to Whatever Hospital and I was dressed in a hospital gown and lying in bed. The nurse (or someone) handed me a pair of tiny mesh underwear. Dad held them up in the air and said (in prime Dad fashion), "Cut me some serious slack."
But I put them on. I guess mesh underwear must be easy to tear off in an emergency or something? No idea why they were mesh or why I was not allowed to simply wear NO undies. At that point, vanity wasn't really an issue. Wearing mesh undies and still not feeling you moving inside me, I was given some orange juice to stir things up in my belly. Someone also gave me some sort of shot (again the details escape me. I have no idea what kind of shot it was) and told us to go for a walk. Dad and I walked the hospital halls, as instructed.
Sure enough, after only a short walk, labor pains started. Suddenly I was uber tired and I just wanted to lie down. Truly I wished I could lie down and go to sleep and have someone wake me up when it was all over (kind of similar to how I felt last week when I was at the dentist). But that didn't happen. I was awake the whole damn time.
I don't remember a ton about the day. I do remember, however, being naked in the shower, sitting on a plastic bench with warm, relaxing water pouring down over me. At first it was calming. But the second time the nurses instructed me to get in the shower to sooth my labor pains, it was very UN-calming. I must have gotten dressed at that point and was put back into bed because (here's the vomit part) I sat up in the hospital bed and projectile vomited. Dad freaked, and later he described it to me as a scene straight out of the Exorcist. He went out of the room telling anyone who would listen, "She's throwing up!"
A nurse came in pronto to change the sheets -- she wanted to change the sheets with me still in the bed, which I thought was weird. I was thinking to myself, I can stand up, for goodness sakes. So I got out of the bed and she expertly put on the new sheets. They insisted that my throwing up had nothing to do with the shot they had given me. Right. It's not like I was pregnant AND had the flu.
Before I knew it, there were all sorts of hospital-type folks in the room looking at my hoo haa. My doctor wasn't there and I sincerely apologize Sweetheart, but I have no idea the name of the doctor who delivered you. As far as I'm concerned, it was me! Everyone and everything in the room was a complete blur and I didn't care who was staring at my crotch at that point. I do, however, distinctly remember a nurse standing next to me with a clip board and two pens taped together, one red and one blue. I assumed she was color-coding her notes. Color coding is always a good idea. But I prefer to use highlighter markers instead of pens to color-code my work. I also prefer to change sheets WITHOUT people in the bed.
One thing I remember is that one of the screams that came out of my mouth was terribly guttural (probably sounded like something "straight out of the Exorcist" again), and Dad tried to calm me by saying. "It's OK. I know how you feel."
Bless his dumb little heart. I said, "NO YOU DON'T."
I'm pretty sure that Dad didn't say much after that. And then, get this, the doctor had the audacity to say, "Baby's head is crowning. Do you want to feel it?"
"Feel it?" I thought. Give me one good reason why a person would think I can't feel "Baby's head crowning." I calmly said to her, "I. CAN. FEEL. IT."
Before I knew it though, you were born. And someone handed you to me. I loved you immediately, despite the pain and despite the nurses thrusting on my stomach to get the placenta out and despite all the complete idiots that were in the room with us! You were an easy delivery (as far as I'm concerned ANY delivery is not easy when you're pushing seven pounds of human being out of your crotch). But I would do it all over again if I could have another you. I am very, very lucky and very, very blessed!
Happy Birthday! Lucas, you are the brightest bulb on my Christmas tree. Shine on!
I love you!
Love,
Mom
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