Terrific Ten

My beautiful and very sweet daughter is 10 today.


After four days (that's right, four!) of a less than pleasant condition called prodromal labor, Lydia Frances "Lu" was born via c-section on a snowy winter's eve. I will now share the story I've told about 1,000 times, but have never written down.


Lu was due on New Year's Day, which is so annoying when you're the wife of an accountant.


"Better have your baby by December 31st for the tax deduction," said every other person I ran into every day. Yes, as my body bloats more and more, as I consider the unknowns of childbirth for the first time, as I contemplate raising a human being from a desperately needy, flailing infant to a complex adult, what I am really anticipating is that tax deduction!


Of course, December 31st came and went. No baby. Then late on January 3rd, I went into labor. We waited until morning to go to the hospital. I was determined to be a super warrior laboring goddess in the comfort of my own home before seeking medical assistance. I brought my pillow! Saw the doctor! But was quickly sent home. All those contractions and I hadn't dilated. 


Many hours later, we headed back to the hospital because I was sure now the baby was ready to slip 'n slide right out. Pillow under arm! Still contracting like a champ! Stubborn cervix hadn't changed. Sent home with Ambien. I had a fitful sleep that night and, as witnessed by Jon, sat up in pain every few minutes without waking. Freaky. 


Back to the hospital in the AM with my trusty pillow. One centimeter dilated. They could tell I was exhausted and offered something to help. (So glad I avoided every kind of medication for nine months, didn't have a sip of alcohol and curbed my caffeine, just to be given a deluge of drugs at the finish line.) Didn't work. I dreamt of colorful marching bands while scratching my nose uncontrollably. Apparently narcotics are not for me! Good to know. The psychedelic effects eventually wore off and, you'll love this, they sent me home.


The next day I grabbed that damn pillow and went back to the hospital where they finally admitted me. I got the epidural and relaxed. About ten more hours later I was still barely dilated – meaning my baby was toasty warm inside and didn't want to budge. The doctor offered a c-section before her shift was up and I jumped at the chance. (Except for I couldn't jump because I was full-o-baby.) 


They started prepping me while Jon watched the Eagles game. I began to panic a little. I'd never had any kind of surgery or stitches. And now I was about to be sliced wide open.


They took me to the operating room. The dad is brought in after the first incision is made. I was a mess. So much anticipation and fear for yourself and your baby and your life about to change forever. They finally led in Jon. He sat down on the little chair next to me. Such relief to have him close. He leaned over. I prepared for comforting words of love and support.


"The Eagles just kicked a field goal," he whispered.


And that is how Lu came into this world! Now she's ten. Crazy.


Telling your first child's birth story is not the writing cue for this week. You can if you want, but this blog is for everyone and not everyone is a mom.


But, everyone was once 10!


So in honor of my daughter's big double digit day – Describe yourself at 10.


I was a little pudgy. My bright blond hair was starting to darken. I loved preppy clothes, hand-woven friendship barrettes, my Urban Chipmunk album (Chipmunks sing country!), ABBA, stuffed animals and sticker collecting. In the summer, I was wet 98% of the day and would lay like a lizard on the concrete in order to get warm. I survived on Bottle Caps, Sugar Babies and Freeze Pops. 

I liked to watch He Man cartoons, Little House on the Prairie and Creature Double Feature on Sundays after church. I had Holly Hobbie wallpaper and a canopy bed. I was always writing or drawing something. My 4th grade class was "the bomb-diggity." It was my best year of elementary school by far. (Though I wasn't organized??)

As I recall, our class was very silly and everyone liked everyone. My best friend's name was Joby. (And still is!) I loved my brother even though he called me "Wretchin'" and/or "Grendel." It was the last year all four G's lived under one roof. Gwyn was a senior in high school, Gail was a sophomore and Geoff was in 6th grade. Innocence and security ruled. I had never lost anyone close to me. Life was grand. Ten was terrific!