Sprout's Birth Story

Dear Sprout,

Today you are four months old. You love to eat, you love to talk, and you love to stand up (with help) on your bowed legs. You are a big fan of bath tubs but you are not quite sure about showers. Your smile lights up my world. In the four months that you have been here, you have irreversibly changed my life. Here is the story of the day that I held you in my arms for the very first time.

April 22 was a Thursday ... it was the longest day of my life. You, my little friend, decided that you did not want to born any time soon. Your daddy and I were told to be at the hospital by 6:00 p.m. sharp so that I could be induced. I cannot begin to tell how agonizingly patient I had to be that day. We had our suitcases packed for over a week ... and with each passing hour, I added more things to our already stuffed bags. What can I say-- I wanted to be productive. Finally, the time came to take the 20 minute car ride that would change life as we knew it. All of our necessities (and last minute nonessential additions) were placed into my Honda Accord. Needless to say, my sedan was full to the brim. Honestly, it looked like Daddy and I were moving to California.

When we arrived at the hospital, we called your Aunt Tammy. She was already there visiting her Uncle Benny. While I was confined to a bed with an IV in one arm and a blood pressure cuff on the other arm, Aunt Tammy and Daddy brought up our belongings. Daddy gave me a teddy bear that he had as a boy -- I wanted to sleep with it so I would not feel quite as alone in my bed (Dad had to sleep on a couch). I put your little carved cross on the table next to me. The doctor gave me some medicine at 8:00 p.m. Finally, it was time to sleep. However, I could not help staying awake the entire night.

At 6:00 the next morning, I was given a pitocin drip. That stuff is a bit scary to me ... but it certainly did its job! As the amount of medicine gradually increased, my contractions became stronger and more regular. I was a little uncomfortable, but I was okay. When I was between 2 and 3 cm dilated, my water broke and intense pain took its place. I had planned on getting an epidural at 5 cm --but I immediately changed my mind. Let me tell you, hooray for epidurals! From that point on, my labor progressed at a much faster pace. By 9:00 p.m., it was time to push. Poor you got stuck and mama had to work extra hard. A crowd of friends and family members were gathered outside our door, listening intently for your cry. Daddy, a nurse, and a doctor (who looked remarkably like Steve Carrel) were helping me while Dona was seated on the other side of the room, praying us through the entire process. Finally, I heard the words, "Okay, stop pushing. We're going to have a baby!"

The whole thing was surreal. There I was, looking around the room as the bed was broken down. To my left, a nurse was getting ready for you at the baby warmer. In front of me, there was a table stocked full of all kinds of different baby-delivery utensils. This was really happening. I was really going to have a baby. "Okay, one big push. Good. Stop." The doctor turned your head around and suctioned out your mouth and nose. Your daddy watched in amazement as you looked intently around at the outside world for the first time. "Good. Now two little pushes. One. Two. ... Congratulations!" You cried softly. For a second, you were placed on my chest. My baby. Then you were quickly whisked away to the baby warmer. The doctor was working on me as a nurse was working on you. I was looking towards you and then you started crying that loud, healthy baby cry. Relief. I had a baby and he was doing great. I had you.

I remember when they gave you to me. The moment I had dreamed about for my whole life was finally upon me. I was a mommy holding my baby. I looked at you and you stared into my eyes. You knew exactly who I was. Daddy was by our side. There we were ... a real family! Our loved ones entered the room. Smiling faces, cameras, and i-phones surrounded us. We were a part of a crowd and we were separate from the crowd at the same time. You blended two families together and you created a new one as well. To those in room 202, you were son, grandson, great-grandson, nephew, and little friend. You gave each one of us a new title and a new purpose in life.

On April 23, 2010, at 11:45 p.m., God blessed us all with you.

Love always,

Mommy