Memory

Today is my daughter's birthday....she is twelve and having a slumber party with two of her friends. We will have pizza and cake. I am retelling my favorite memory of the day she was born.

It was just after midnight and I was restless. For the first time in our marriage, my husband was in bed before me (he had attended a paint ball session during the day and was exhausted not to mention covered in red craters all over his body from where he was hit).

I got out of bed, grabbed a book and sat down the couch to read. Two seconds later I felt a gush of water...the dog looked at me like shouldn't be in the bathroom or at least outside doing that? I called the doctor's office, explained what happened and it was five weeks too early for this to be happening. The doctor tells me to go in.

I stand at the bedroom door and call to my sound asleep husband several times before he wakes up. I tell him what happened and we have to go. I say to him that I will get there and they will for sure send me home because it is too early. Later he tells me in his mind he is thinking about the baby arriving too early and there are all sorts of machines and tubes, he expects the worst.

We get there and I go through eight hours of hard labor (intense contractions every two minutes, sometimes each one lasting that long, and finally the baby arrives..."It's a girl!" says my husband. We are so happy.

Then we go through the whole day of visitors, phone calls and check ups...the baby is fine. Finally, around eleven at night, we are alone. I am feeding her and thinking "How am I going to be able to take care of this baby with my hearing and sight impairment?" I look down at her wishing she would open her eyes because I had not seen them yet. Right at that moment, one eye opened up and peeked up at me. The eye looked me over good and then closed again as if to say, "Everything is going to be alright, mom" I felt a sense of peace and we both fell asleep.

Happy Birthday, Bree. I love you.