The Day You Were Born - Part 5 - The Art of Good Parking

So after your dad and I left  McDonalds, we headed straight for the hospital.

The hospital we chose to have you at wasn't one that was real close to our house. On a good day it took thirty minutes to get there. On a day filled to the brim with traffic, it could easily take an hour.

Your daddy and I were super nervous about this because along with the thought that there could be lots of traffic on the way to the hospital....it was also Mardi Gras time. This terrified your dad. In his mind, he pictured himself having to be the one who had to deliver you in the car behind a Mardi Gras barcade as the floats went by.

But none of these things were issues on the way to the hospital that night, because there were no parades and no traffic after midnight. There wasn't even anyone on the road.

But because we had all these worries before you were born, we tried a few practice runs to see how fast we could get to the hospital and if your dad could remember how to get there. For some reason he just never could.

On that night, I wasn't worried, because the last few times we went to the hospital your dad had done just fine.

So I settled in my seat and flipped the sun visor mirror down so I could apply some powder, some blush and while I was at it - mascara.  When I finished up I flipped the mirror up and settled back in my seat. And that's when I realized it.

"Wait a minute....where are we?"

And your dad said "Oh I took the  *** exit."

"You took the *** exit?"

"Yep."

"Why would you do that?"

"That's the way we go"

"Um, no it's definitely not."

Yep, in your dad's haste to get us to the hospital, he took the wrong exit completely. And so between three minute contractions I became the GPS woman but with slightly huffier tone until we pulled into the hospital parking lot.

And because it was after midnight we had more than our pick of parking spots.

"That one right there is fine." I said.

"No hold on...." Your dad's eyes scanned for a better parking spot...

There were rows and rows of empty parking spots.

"What about that one?"

"No....." His voice trailed off.

I gave him a real hard look. "What's wrong with that one?" But he ignored me.

"This one, this is the one." He pulled into a spot.

Just as I was about to unlatch my seat belt....he backed the truck up.

And then he pulled it back in.

I went back to unlatching my seat belt......and he backed the truck up again.

And he pulled it right back in again.

I looked at him like he had four heads.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just want to get it straight."

"I'm pretty sure it's straight."

Ham, it could have been parked sideways for all I could have cared, the only thing I was thinking about was you and those hamburgers I couldn't eat.

So we finally got out of the truck. Your dad grabbed my bag and we started to walk across the parking lot. The whole time we were walking your dad kept glancing back at his truck.

"I sorry, I gotta....I'll be right back."

And your dad for Lord only knows what reason ran back over to his truck and backed his truck up and straightened it ...... two more times!

Hammy, I have no idea what in the world that was about but what I did notice was....

"Is that our cheeseburgers...." I pointed down to the ground. Underneath the back wheel of the truck was the remains of our smashed up cheeseburgers.

Before you go thinking that your dad is this big time litterer. I'll just say, I don't think your dad was trying to litter at all. I'm not sure what his intentions were but somehow those cheeseburgers ended up behind the wheel of the truck and were rolled over multiple times as your dad straighten and restraightened and straightened his truck again.

But before I could give it much more thought we decided the truck was a straight as it would ever be and we headed into the hospital.

Go Saints!

I know we have a good thing going but we need to take a break to celebrate the Saints Game!

Here's a little guy who was pretty excited about it.....

The Day You Born - Part 4 – I'll take the Party Shirt and a Side of Cheeseburgers

There are lots of things that go through your head when you are in labor or when you are the husband of a wife who is in labor.

As the woman in labor, my first thoughts were – do I have time for a quick shower, what am I going to wear, are my toenails painted and if not will my doctor be horrified by them.

“You are going to take a shower?!” your daddy asked me. His tone had every hint of how ridiculous I was being.

“Yes! I need to.” I said with desperation.

So I ran into the bathroom and started the water. But as I stood there letting the water heat up, I realized there really wasn't any time for a shower. No time to paint my toes either. I wasn't even sure I could reach them. Instead the only thing I really had time for was getting dressed.

I turned off the water and headed back to the bedroom.

Rummaging through my drawers, I tried my best to find something that screamed, “I'm in labor, but I'm glamorously in labor.”

Your dad had just about enough of it. “What you have on is fine.”

Hammy, do you know what I had on?

A pair of tights and t-shirt that said “This is My Party Shirt” with a picture of both political party symbols, a donkey and an elephant. And if to make matters worse, it wasn't just any shirt. It was your daddy's shirt that I squeezed my gigantic pregnant belly into. Nothing remotely glamorous about that.

So that's what I went to the hospital in. A party shirt.

I figured I'd have plenty of time in the car to fix my makeup....in the car on the way to McDonalds.

“McDonalds?!” Your dad asked.

“Yes, I'm starving. And besides, they won't let me eat anything once I get there! Mc Donalds was the only thing I knew would be open.

“Are you kidding me?” Daddy asked.

And Ham, my look said, “Definitely not.”

So we grabbed my “hospital” bag and we drove around the corner to the Mc Donalds.

“I need to call the hospital to tell them we are coming. You order. I want a cheeseburger.”

And as your dad ordered cheeseburgers for us – one for him because he was hungry too – I dialed the hospital.

While I chit chatted with the nurse about my contractions the Mc Donald's intercom blared through the car window. I could tell she was getting aggravated.

Before I hung up with her I asked “Is it okay for me to eat? I mean, say I just ordered a cheeseburger. Can I eat that?” I asked the nurse.

And her response was something to the effect of......well Ham, it's plain gross what she said. She told me two possible things that could happen to that hamburger if I decided to eat one.

And as I hung up the phone, we were already pulling out of the parking lot and onto the interstate. I looked over at your dad, who was patting the bag of cheeseburgers and grinning. “I got them.” he said.

“We can't eat them.”

“What?!”

And so I told him what the nurse said. And your dad who is a good sport about everything just shrugged his shoulders and put the bag in the back see so we didn't have to look at it. If I wasn't going to eat, then your daddy wouldn't make me suffer through it alone.

While cheeseburgers and my appearance weighed heavy on my mind, your dad had worries all of his own before your arrival.

I didn't find out until we were in the parking lot of the hospital just what that worry that would be.

The Day You Born - Part 3 – Save As: Contractions

So filled up on potato soup your dad and I decided it was time for bed. I headed off to the sofa and your dad headed to the nice king size bed we have. Before you get mad that your dad gave you and me the sofa, let me just tell you that we slept better on the sofa those last few months. Remember?

I curled up on the sofa and propped pillows in just about ever place I could. Uncomfortable was an understatement for you and me those days. It didn't take me long to drift off into a real deep sleep.

And then a little bit before midnight....I felt it. 

What, you are wondering? You know. You started it.

The unmistakeable pain with contractions, Ms. Kristie was talking about.

I sat up. Could it be? Is this it?

I laid down. No I don't think so, couldn't be. 

And then there is was again, minutes later. 

I sat up again. 

Yes there is was like a wave coming into shore, intense and then gone just as soon as it started.

I hobbled to the back of the house to get your daddy.

Do you know what he was doing?

Son, your dad was up late watching one of the most boring movies of all time, “Moon”. Let me sum it up for you – There is a man on the moon and he talks to himself a lot because he is all by himself. Then he starts to think he is going crazy because he sees people that look just like him. Then he talks to the people who look just like him, I guess because he is tired of talking to himself. But they look just like him so technically he is still talking to himself. And then you start to feel crazy for watching it. The End.

Your dad loves B movies and your mom could just about do without them.

I saw that movie your dad had on and I gave him a look like “Really?” and your dad just shrugged his shoulders and gave me a sheepish smile. He just can't help himself.

“Mr. Yardbird, I'm having pain with my contractions.” I reported.

Your daddy gave me a real sleeply, “Huh?..... Oh well, we will just call the doctor in the morning to tell her that you are having pain with your contractions.”

This was your daddy's way of saying, “Mrs. Yardbird, I am so tired. Please don't tell me you are in labor now.”   

Bless your dad's heart, he hadn't been sleeping well worrying about you and me and he was in no shape to pull an all nighter. 

I decided I should be a little more straight forward and just come out with it.

“We need to go to hospital.” I said without batting an eye.

When you say things like that, people tend to get a little crazy. I've seen in the movies where men run into walls with their pregnant wife's luggage because they don't know where to go or what to do.

But your dad, sleepy as he was could only muster, “How far apart are your contractions?”

I didn't know. So we sat down on the bed and we decided to find out. I opened my laptop and opened a word document and saved it as “Contractions.” Does this seem weird to you, Hammy? It does to me too. A word document called “contractions” that I was using to type the times in? Whatever happened to a good old pen and paper. 

Your dad started the timer on his phone and off we went.

12:03 I typed.

12:06 I typed.

12:09 I typed.

12:12 I typed.

My eyes got huge. I looked at your dad who was fighting a big yawn.

“They are three minutes apart.”

“Three minutes apart?”

I nodded slowly, swallowing all the fear that I suddenly started feeling.

Ham, they told me in birthing class, get to the hospital when my contractions were five minutes apart. That's the one thing I remember about that class.

And here we were.....three minutes apart.

To Be Continued....

Want to catch up?

Part 1: Click Here
Part 2: Click Here

The Day You Born - Part 2 – Calm as Potato Soup

Little Ham,

So where were we?

Ah yes, I had just gotten a super cute haircut and I was good to go for the big moment when you would make your grand entrance into this world.

I was on my way home and feeling much better about everything. You see, Ham, a girl just doesn't feel right when her hair isn't fixed nice for a special occasion.

When I got home, guess who was standing in the doorway?

Your daddy.

He was home from work for a few minutes and he wasn't too happy with me.

As I walked up to the door he stood there shaking his head. “Mrs. Yardbird, when are you ever going to get some rest.”

Ham, I just rolled my eyes. You, men don't understand anything about women and their hair.

Your daddy told me to get in the bed. No questions asked. “You need sleep.” he said. “How do you expect to stay awake when Henry's ready to get out if you haven't even rested at all.”

And you know what. He was right. I was really, really tired. So I didn't put up any fuss and at one o'clock that day I put myself to bed and I slept all the way until five.

At five o'clock, your daddy came back home. I assured him that I had indeed rested and that I had big plans to make him some potato soup. One of his favorite meals.

As I fixed supper, I thought about you and wondered if you liked potato soup and if you liked my cooking too and if that's why you had no intentions of coming out of there.

Your daddy and I met on the back deck to sit in the shade and enjoy our soup while we talked about our day.

Ms. Sandy our neighbor poked her head over the fence and said in her thick New Orleans accent, “Girl, you hadn't had dat baby yet?”

Ham, even if it was clear that I hadn't given birth to you yet, even if my belly was the size of planet Jupiter, people were still going to ask me if I had my baby yet, because when a woman is nine + months pregnant that's all anyone wants to talk about. I was beginning to feel like a ticking time bomb and you were the explosion.

“No, he still in there.” I yelled over to her. “We don't know when he's going to decide to show up.” We laughed that it could be tonight. Ms. Sandy laughed because she said we looked so calm sitting there eating our potato soup with all that was just about to happen.

You know what, Ham, we were calm. But in a few short hours all that would change.


To Be Continued.....

To read Part 1 -Click Here

The Day You Were Born.... (Part 1)

One day little Ham is going to ask me about the day he was born.

And because I don't see that happening anytime soon and because I'm almost certain I will forget all the little details, I decided I would put the story out there in digital world to be saved for when the time comes. I can wave my hand in the air and grab that story via technological air file. Because that's how far in the future I see this question coming up and that's how far I guess we will have come with technology.

So here it goes:

Little Ham, (even if you are big when I tell you this, you will be my little ham. Period.)

It went something like this.

The day you born was unlike any other day. I wasn't working, which was real unusual for me. I decided to take my maternity leave early because my due date was just a few days before and you still hadn't shown up yet.

So there I was on that blissfully workfree Wednesday and I decided why not fill it with all the things I've been meaning to get done. Because in my mind you weren't coming till Thursday (one of my predictions) and that meant I had a whole day to take advantage of. What I decided to do was to go observe two elementary schools in the same morning. Because have I mentioned I was working on getting certified to teach?

Yes Little Ham. I was. Right after I got pregnant with you, that's what I decided to do. So because I'm a silly mom,  I thought I could take two really hard education courses and still give birth to you. No problem. Well it worked out just fine, but sure wasn't the easiest thing I've done.

Anyway I went to my first school to observe your mom's friend Ms. Kristie teaching her first grade class. Ms. Kristie knew that I was having Braxton Hicks contractions and that they were happening since the six month. I asked her, "Ms. Kristie, how will I know when I'm in labor?" And she said, "For me, I had pain with those contractions." And I breathed a huge sigh of relief because no pain for this girl. I had a whole other school to observe that day.....oh and a hair appointment too. I wasn't really ready for you yet.

So off to the next school I went. At this school I had to cram my over nine month pregnant body onto a chair meant for a 6 year old. Hammy, you can only imagine what that most have looked like. It was tough, plus with all the contractions, it was almost too much for your mom to bear, but I took it in stride. And just as I was going to give myself a pat on the back for doing so well, I noticed some of the 6 year olds were whispering and pointing at me. Kids can be so mean, little Ham.

Finally one of them walked over to me. She poked me in the arm. "Hey you," she said. She had a real serious look on her face. Like whatever she was going to tell me was real important and I had better listen up. "I'm just going to tell you that the other kids over there..." she glances over her shoulder. "...they're saying some bad stuff about you." and then she looks down at my belly and the little gang of six year olds across the room start giggling. Don't take offense, Ham. I think it was more about me and the way I looked at nine months perched up on a that tiny chair than it had anything to do with you.

Mean kids.

After I left that school I headed to my hair appointment. It had been months and I mean months since I had it cut. I had to beg my hair dresser to squeeze me in. I told her I just had to be groomed before I went into labor, which could be well....any minute, really. So nice as she was, she agreed to see me.

While I was getting my hair cut, I chit chatted with all the women there about how I was excited, how after this haircut -- bring on the baby!, and how I was having so many contractions - heck I could be in labor now and I didn't even know it. That's what I told them and you know what Ham?

I was.

I'll continue this tomorrow.

It's been 6 months.

You are probably wondering, as I am too, where in the world have I been.

Lost in baby world.

As I sit here baking peaches -I'm seriously baking peaches right now - and pausing for a moment while my son sleeps soundly for naptime...I'm starting to wonder where have the last six months gone?

Baby world, that's where.

The first few months are tough to remember. This is what I do remember -

First two weeks - a nightmare
Next six weeks - a managable sometimes unmanagable nightmare
2 months into it - Okay it's managable.... no longer a nightmare
3 months - I think I could..... maybe one day...... I could maybe have more kids
4 months - This is really not bad. I definitely want more kids.
5 months - Man I love this kid.
6 months - Darn it, I want a million babies if they are half as great as this one.

Those first few months were certainly hard ones.

Because I have absolutely no shame, I'm
posting this picture of me only days after my
little guy was born. And yes, I am wearing a skirt
and pajama pants at the same time. No shame.

I wish someone would have mentioned that to me so I could have better prepared myself.

But they didn't.

Behind all of the well wishes and all of the smiles and nods, I never - not once - had anyone tell how hard of a job it would be.

Sure they said I wouldn't sleep. And they might have told me that I needed to rest up but never did they say I would be a complete wreck.

That I would be lucky if I could squeeze a shower in. And maybe a meal. That just as I would finally get the little guy to sleep, he would wake up minutes later screaming for his next meal.

They didn't say that in one moment you could be pooped on, then puked on and then turn around and spill coffee on yourself because you are so tired. So unbelievably tired. Exhausted.

They didn't tell me that I would never again drink a cup of hot coffee. That a cold cup of hours old coffee would be my friend.

They didn't say that I would cry a whole lot for no reason at all in those first few weeks or that I would want to kiss the ground my mom walked on because how in the world did she do this with four kids.

No one warned me that everyone and thier grandma's grandma will ask me if I was breastfeeding.

I'm serious about that.

The cook at my favorite breakfast joint, the cashier at the grocery store, and my mail woman in front of my friends. Or the random woman would taught me how to get a good latch on the nipple by demonstrating it with her hands while my husband's jaw drops in disbelief while sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office.

And know one ever tells you that if you breastfeed you're automatically inducted in some secret breastfeeding club and if you don't well.... shame, shame, shame on you. And you're not a member.

Nothing quite prepares you for any of that.

I remember the first time I went out of my house on my own. The first time I drove my car after having been cooped up in the house for weeks. My car felt so different. Like it was someone elses car. The old me. :) Receipts for tj max and marshalls sticking out from the sides of the seats and my drink I left in the cup holder from life before baby. It made me kind of sad. Never again would I jump up and take a run to the store grabbing just my keys and my wallet.

I drove over to Marshalls. Because that's what the old me would want to do. As I walked into the store I saw a woman with her two kids. I couldn't help but stare at them. She was dressed cute, her hair fixed, makeup on. Her two kids were neatly dressed and happy.

And all I could think was - How in the world does she do it? How does she dress both kids and herself and put makeup on and fix her hair and feed them and make sure she eats and put them in the car and take them out and......and then I stopped staring because it's rude and because it's probably creepy too.

And Marshalls? - It was different too. All I could think about was what my little man might need. I wasn't shopping for the home, wasn't shopping for me. All I could think about was him.

That's what I remember about those first few months. I don't think I have ever been such a mess in my whole life. Maybe it's a good thing no one really warned me.

And boy have I come a long way! In those six months of after birth shock I learned how to embrace the new me. The me with baby drool and spit up on my clothes. The me who might have time to fix my hair or might not, who may end up with a mom haircut afterall. You know what I mean. The me who  has to focus on moment to moment instead of making big plans. And you know what I'm okay with that because rollercoaster that is was, it was the best six months I have had yet.