Three Years Ago Today

Three years ago today, I awoke alone in the hospital. It was a restless sleep, and when the light streamed in through my window I had a vague feeling of anticipation. It felt almost like Christmas morning, but with a dash of fear thrown in for good measure.

The night before, The Hubbs and I went to the doctor’s office for my 40-week checkup. That baby still seemed to have absolutely no intention of budging, so my midwife called ahead to the hospital to set me up in a room where I would be induced the following morning. After a super-high-class dinner at McDonald’s, The Hubbs and I stocked up on Gatorade and made our way across the street to the hospital.

It had been a strange day, indeed. You see, we knew that if I made it to this appointment without a baby in hand, they’d be sending me over to the hospital afterward. Armed with this knowledge, we packed our bags, dropped The Girls off at The Grumps’ house, made sure all of our affairs were in order, and set off. It felt a little like getting ready for vacation, but not.

The Hubbs and I went through the admission process, which was impressively short, thanks to the pre-admission paperwork I had sent in. I’m sure that would have come in handy, had I arrived in the ER huffing and puffing my way through contractions. We were led upstairs to the maternity ward, where I was assigned a room. First things first: we set up the iPod with its docking station. This was our sanity device, calmly playing jazz over the next umpteen hours.

Once we were set up and I was comfortably resting in bed, the nurse suggested that The Hubbs return home for the evening. She explained that I would need him to be nice and alert the next day, and that the fold-out chair in the hospital room wasn’t exactly the best place to get a good night’s rest.

So, home he returned.

Three years ago today, I awoke in the hospital to learn of a freak snowstorm that had blown through overnight, blanketing the world with eight fresh inches. And it wasn’t over yet.

The midwife and doctor came in at seven o’clock to break my water and induce labor, and The Hubbs was stuck in a blizzard. Not exactly how I’d pictured it.

The Hubbs arrived at the hospital unscathed, and was his usual dreamboat self all day. God bless him, he did all he could to help me remain as comfortable as possible…even when I nearly broke his hand.

Three years ago today, I awoke as a daughter, a woman, a wife. Three years ago today, I became a mother at 4:42 in the afternoon, to the tune of “And the Angels Sing” by Benny Goodman and his band. Three years ago today, I gave my whole heart to that little pink person in the silly hat.

The hospital staff had specifically requested to have family members come only after the baby had arrived, seeing as how the maternity waiting room is on the small side. Our family is a stubborn bunch...telling us not to do something is like trying to lead a cow down a staircase – try as you might, it just ain’t gonna happen. I should have known this, but still I requested that everyone stay put until we made The Call. Needless to say, the small waiting room was bursting with our loved ones before any call had been made. Not exactly what we had planned.

Three years ago today, a birthday party of epic proportions took place on the seventh floor of the hospital where The Princess was born.

Every day since then has been filled with joy by my little sweetheart. I never knew how much love my heart could hold until the day I became a momma.

She’s everything and more than I ever could have asked for in another human being. And absolutely nothing like how I’d pictured her.  And I wouldn’t change one single, solitary thing. Squeaking, growling, stimming, retreating, laughing, crying…she’s so perfectly her.

To my perfect little Princess:

Three years ago today, you showed me what it meant to love. Every day since then, you’ve shown me what it means to be proud of another person. You’ve taught me patience, that’s for sure.

You’ve shown me that expectations are nothing when compared with reality.

You’ve shown me that people are like snowflakes. We’re all different, but we all have one thing in common: if you just look hard enough, we’re all beautiful.

You’ve grown so much in the last three years, and I honestly believe you’ve taught me more than I could ever hope to teach you. Be patient with me…I know I still have much to learn. You just keep on showing me the way, and I promise to do my best to keep up.

Happy birthday, my angel. I love you more than you could ever possibly know.