It’s your day, sweetie

(Pint Size Genius’ birthday was Monday. I’ve posted birth stories for two other kids, and I shouldn’t quit now).

I had packed up everything I needed, gotten all the boxes of stuff that would be useful and prepared myself as much as I possibly could. I started my maternity leave from my teaching job expecting to have about a week at home before my due date.

Well… when you let nature take its course, stuff like that doesn’t go according to plan.

I woke up at about 1 o’clock in the morning and all I could think of was the classic episode of “I Love Lucy” when Ricky was doing the dry run of taking Lucy to the hospital by walking into the living room and declaring, “THE TIME HAS COME.”

But the time hadn’t come– not exactly. I already had a 3-year-old and an 18-month-old, so this was all quite familiar. I realized the contraction wasn’t very strong, and my water definitely wasn’t broken, so I went back to sleep. It was Sunday and I was determined to have as normal a time of it as I could. I still remember when I was pregnant for the first time, a co-worker said that she always labored at home as much as possible (“Why go to the hospital where you’re stuck in a bed and getting poked at the whole time?” It makes so much sense). When we all woke up to go to church, I told my husband that the contractions were starting. He, having way more sense and experience than Ricky Ricardo, helped me get my bag together and dress the kids.

While at Mass, the contractions got stronger. The hubs’ sister and the Legal Lawyer’s wife noticed and had a sense of awe about the fact that I was in labor right in front of them (my sister-in-law isn’t married yet, and Mrs. LL goes the C-section route).

After Mass, The Hubs called his mom and had her meet us at the hospital to pick up the other kids. I checked into the hospital and got situated in the delivery room. The one L&D nurse informed me that I HAD to have the baby before 6pm. I told her that I would, because I wanted to watch the Giants playoff game, too. Then I told her that my first delivery included an epidural which was awful, the second had nothing, which was quite awful as well, and asked if there was something in between. She came back with a needle. Suddenly everything was just fine… unless there was a contraction. Then I would look to my husband expecting moral support… to find him watching TV. (Afterwards, he told me that I was dead asleep between contractions, and that it was getting kind of boring.)

I had been going to an OB/GYN group of about 4 doctors… and NONE of them were on duty that day. So a guy I had never met was checking “under the hood”. Faboo.

And then he had a look of concern. Like, a real one. The Giants fan nurse suited up in surgical gear and had to help the doctor, whose face still showed concern. (I don’t do mirrors and the doctor might have explained it all but the drugs would’ve prevented me from grasping any of it.)

My Pint-Size Genius was born at 2:16 PM. He watched the Giants win the NFC Championship that evening.

I won’t go into detail about what caused the concern, but there was swelling involved and 24 hours with an icepack took care of it with no further issue. We went home two days later and have been having a wonderful time of it ever since.

Happy Birthday, Pint Size Genius. May your height, your personality and your vocabulary continue to grow. Love you always.

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