It really isn't even my due date yet. My doctor has plans to be out of town the following week, on my actual due date, and he recommends labor induction. I am young, naive. I don't know better. I am ready to meet my baby.
In the wee hours of the morning on April 10, 1991, my husband and I make our way into the hospital and all the necessary preparations for childbirth are begun. I am started intravenously on the Pitocin drip at 6:00 am, and am told that I should expect to have a baby in my arms by lunch-time. Excited, nervous and afraid, all at the same time.
My labor is long, hard and laborious. It seems never-ending. Is there no relief in sight? Baby is most definitely not ready to leave the comfort and safety of mommy's womb. Push and push, for three hours, pushing to no avail. At this point I should probably give birth by means of the cesarean route, but he's the doctor, right?
So I continue pushing while my dear husband is coaching me and encouraging me, and in the meantime, one of the EMTs at the hospital that day climbs up onto the bed behind me, cradling me against her while she wraps arms around me, hands on my tummy, and helps to "push" my baby towards life outside the womb.
At 6:01 pm, after 12 hours of labor, 3 of which are spent in the pushing stage, baby finally emerges. I am told that I have a son, my firstborn is a son. Thank you God for hearing the pleas of a young mother... I would ask you for a firstborn son, Lord, but most importantly, a healthy baby.
Utterly exhausted and spent, but elated beyond measure, I cradle my handsome baby boy in my arms. Gazing steadfastly into his beautiful blue eyes, I fall completely in love. Oh joy of joys, I am a mommy! My amazing God has granted me the desires of my heart. Now Lord, hear my pleas yet again. Let me be a good mommy. Let me love, let me nurture, let me mother in such a way that he will see You, that he will be drawn to You.
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Fast forward 20 years...
Last night after church, we celebrated his birthday with friends at everybody's favorite restaurant, Village Pizza. I made an ice cream cake to share. He didn't want candles. He didn't want me to sing Happy Birthday. And he didn't want me to take pictures. :( So I had to be content with a picture of the cake.
Last night after church, we celebrated his birthday with friends at everybody's favorite restaurant, Village Pizza. I made an ice cream cake to share. He didn't want candles. He didn't want me to sing Happy Birthday. And he didn't want me to take pictures. :( So I had to be content with a picture of the cake.
Through the years in pictures...
20 years have passed by so quickly. It seems like only yesterday I was bringing him home from the hospital. And now he is 20 years old. No longer a teenager, but a young man. Spreading his wings, learning to fly.
Thank you Lord, for the days and years that You entrusted him to my care and upbringing. Thank you for hearing the pleas of a young girl's heart and granting me the privilege of becoming wife and mother.
Isn't it C.R.A.Z.Y. how fast the years go by when you look at them in a series of photos like this???? Our oldest will be 22 in a couple of weeks!
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