"You must have been a beautiful baby...."
The Christmas of 1982 I was one month overdue. No not my library books and not a traffic ticket, I was one month past my due date. I was big round and pregnant and not just with pause but with Tadpole. Only I didn’t know her as Tadpole yet. She had been pretending she was ready to enter her new world for about a month.
I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for about two weeks. Who is this Braxton Hicks anyway and can she sing like Toni Braxton? The contractions got more intense and closer together but still were not consistent or strong enough to be “real” in my mind. Instead we made it through Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with me walking three or four steps and having to sit down. My family was very supportive and tried to help throw me into labor by feeding me lots of rich food and making me laugh. Unfortunately all it did was make me have to run to the bathroom before I peed in my pants. We played 400 games of Hate Your Neighbor and 200 games of Spades. Now let me just insert a Trooper Bob-ism here. He is the only person I have ever known to bid Nil while holding the Ace of Spades in his hand. We laughed, ate and made merry. We watched movies and played with the kids toys. Each time I had a contraction everyone would stop and ask “Is it time?” Nope it wasn’t time.
Finally at about nine p.m. the day after Christmas, Meme looked at me and said “You need to go to the hospital and let them check you out.” I have told you before that I do as I’m told and so we gathered up our stuff and drove the 14 miles into town in the snow that had begun to fall. I entered the Labor and Delivery unit of the hospital and gave them my name and my doctor’s name thinking that once again they would say “It’s just Braxton Hicks, GO HOME.” I just knew this baby was never going to come out and I would continue ballooning up until I was so big I would just explode. I also knew that if this child ever came out it would never be late for anything again. The nurse escorted me to a room and examined me. She looked at me and instead of sending me home she said “I’ll be right back” and ran out of the room. The next thing I knew it was midnight and they had me hooked up to this machine and that machine. The doctor had arrived and he examined me and ran out of the room. I was beginning to get self conscience. Then he came back in dressed in scrubs and told me it was time. Time? Time for what? Time for Howdy Doody? Time for the news? No he explained it was time for Tadpole. She was born a little after midnight and was a little bitty thing even though she was a month late. She was gorgeous and bright. She was precious and cuddly.
Tadpole and I had a special connection from the day she was born. She grew a huge funny bone while cooking in the proverbial oven for an extra month. She also grew a huge heart. As she began to grow and become her own little person she grew a huge personality too. She has grown into a beautiful woman. She is often my muse, my inspiration and my cheerleader. She has a great take on life and an independence that baffles me. She takes after my mother in her ability to be both stern and soft. She cares for her clients and worries over them but she takes no guff from them. She is a petite woman who is ten feet tall in her constancy. She is a great mother dealing with her own daughter with love, care and respect. She is beautiful both inside and out. Most important she is NEVER late!
I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for about two weeks. Who is this Braxton Hicks anyway and can she sing like Toni Braxton? The contractions got more intense and closer together but still were not consistent or strong enough to be “real” in my mind. Instead we made it through Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with me walking three or four steps and having to sit down. My family was very supportive and tried to help throw me into labor by feeding me lots of rich food and making me laugh. Unfortunately all it did was make me have to run to the bathroom before I peed in my pants. We played 400 games of Hate Your Neighbor and 200 games of Spades. Now let me just insert a Trooper Bob-ism here. He is the only person I have ever known to bid Nil while holding the Ace of Spades in his hand. We laughed, ate and made merry. We watched movies and played with the kids toys. Each time I had a contraction everyone would stop and ask “Is it time?” Nope it wasn’t time.
Finally at about nine p.m. the day after Christmas, Meme looked at me and said “You need to go to the hospital and let them check you out.” I have told you before that I do as I’m told and so we gathered up our stuff and drove the 14 miles into town in the snow that had begun to fall. I entered the Labor and Delivery unit of the hospital and gave them my name and my doctor’s name thinking that once again they would say “It’s just Braxton Hicks, GO HOME.” I just knew this baby was never going to come out and I would continue ballooning up until I was so big I would just explode. I also knew that if this child ever came out it would never be late for anything again. The nurse escorted me to a room and examined me. She looked at me and instead of sending me home she said “I’ll be right back” and ran out of the room. The next thing I knew it was midnight and they had me hooked up to this machine and that machine. The doctor had arrived and he examined me and ran out of the room. I was beginning to get self conscience. Then he came back in dressed in scrubs and told me it was time. Time? Time for what? Time for Howdy Doody? Time for the news? No he explained it was time for Tadpole. She was born a little after midnight and was a little bitty thing even though she was a month late. She was gorgeous and bright. She was precious and cuddly.
Tadpole and I had a special connection from the day she was born. She grew a huge funny bone while cooking in the proverbial oven for an extra month. She also grew a huge heart. As she began to grow and become her own little person she grew a huge personality too. She has grown into a beautiful woman. She is often my muse, my inspiration and my cheerleader. She has a great take on life and an independence that baffles me. She takes after my mother in her ability to be both stern and soft. She cares for her clients and worries over them but she takes no guff from them. She is a petite woman who is ten feet tall in her constancy. She is a great mother dealing with her own daughter with love, care and respect. She is beautiful both inside and out. Most important she is NEVER late!
MOM! Stop taking pictures and pull me!
"I thought I wasn never going to get that squeeking Donald Duck hat off her head!"
Here she is instructing Gabby on the correct way to vacuum. You notice she vacuums so she leaves no streaks? Yeah, her Meme taught her that.
Here she is during her tour in the Military.
Here she is in her Vampire phase. Not really this was a dance costume.
You know what she's thinking? Yeah she is thinking "Hurry UP MAWWM! Take your dang picture! It's cold out here!"
Happy Birthday Tadpole!
I owe you an Exploding Barbie Cake!
6 comments:
That was sweet. Happy Birthday, Tadpole!! (so, IS she ever late?)
No she's not. She HATES being late for anything. It causes great anxiety for her to be late. Anxiety for everyone. :)
What a story - I would say great story, but I've been in labor a few times myself and it is certainly no picnic! About the ride: I left about 5:60 a.m. and the Interstate was a little hinky. They had the 45 mph signs out and I was the only person on the entire I95! I went really slow and by the time the sun came up, so did the temperatures. I drove most of the way in 35-38 degrees on clear roads. Someone was watching out for me!! The bonus: Kiley and her mommy came back with me to spend the weekend. I have baby cereal, toys, poopee diapers and socks (where the hell do all the socks come from?) EVERYWHERE and I'm lovin it. By the way, what is an exploding Barbie cake??? DO TELL!
She's a lucky girl to have a Mom who sings her praises.
When our firstborn made his appearance Sept. 12, 1981, he was a little late, but nine pounds, ten ounces. And since he was born late, Saturday afternoon, I figured that is why he is always late to this day. Just a laid back kid.
Now he has his own little cutie patootee.
Your poor Tadpole, born so close to Christmas, do people get her birthday and Christmas presents mixed up??
Happy Belated B-day Tadpole!
I vacuumed AND raked our carpet. Our shag carpet.
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