Have a dressed up day!

Monday, May 25, 2015

when you turn sweet sixteen

It was the day before you were to be born.  She walked into the largest of the baby suites - the one they had set me up in because I was to be there so long, the one big enough for your sisters to bring sleeping bags and stay with me at night, the one you would be born in - and she looked at my iv.

It needs changing again.  There's no place left to put it but your neck or foot. 

I probably cried.  I was tired.  I could not wait for you to get here.  Could this pregnancy get much worse?  It all began the day I passed out in the dressing room of Limited Too and your Uncle Markie scooped me up and carried me to the waiting ambulance.

And now Bluebird can't go to the mall with Delia without anxiety that something will happen.  A little PTSD, Shelby?

When a tear was found in my gallbladder and there was nothing they could do but wait for you to come.  When every bite made me sick and I slept with a bowl by my bed just in case I couldn't make the bathroom.  When your big sister was so afraid she slept on a pallet right at my side of the bed.

The nurse held off on the iv change and less than 24 hours later they made me so comfortable I never felt a moment's pain and you brought more than just a new baby girl into our lives.

You brought joy and happiness matched only by the two before you and you were mothered by three and they were bigger mama lions than I was.

To know you is to love you.

You are still the silly little girl full of excitement that climbed the doors like coconut trees.   That feated up when you were hot and touched my cheek when you told stories.

It takes you forever to get ready and you've got me obsessed with Downton Abbey.  

They aren't really cancelling it, right?  Maybe it's just a guise to get you to watch the series finale and they are secretly bringing Matthew back.  A little like the Dallas/Pam/Bobby shower scene.  We can hope. 

And you love you some TV and movies.

And you cried buckets of tears over Pilgrim and then took the stage and blew me away.  

I am so very terribly not humble at all proud of you.     

I'd ask you to just slow down a little but that's one of the impossible mysteries of life - how swiftly time grows up your babies.  

Stay here in Merica, okay?  And you love you some Survivor. 

I love you my sweet sixteen sack of baby bones. 

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Max says . . .

And I find this photo on my phone.  A surprise gift from Maxster.

Which reminds me of when I found these on the camera, one day, out of the blue.  One of the best days.

And this morning, cuddled in bed exhausted from the week, we have this conversation.

Thank you for being so good this week.  You were patient and never complained about all the work for the play.  And you pitched in and worked hard.  You're a super son! 

laughter as he buries his head deep into my shoulder

I'm gonna buy you a shirt that says, 
Super Son.

Mommy, that'd be so cool!
I can wear one that says Super Son
and Daddy can wear one that says, Super Dad.
And you can wear one that says,

wait for it - - 

I have a Super Son!

What?  Maxster, wait!  There is something wrong with this picture.  
You get a Super Son shirt, 
Daddy gets a Super Dad shirt, 
and I get a I got a Super Son shirt?

huge laughter as I hug him close and marvel that he is here.  This gift.  This son of mine.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

her first mother's day

It was Saturday and Gregg was working when labor pains began.  And I didn't know what labor pains felt like.  So I called Mama.  And she said she couldn't remember and told me to call my cousin Teresa.  

But Lena wouldn't let me.  She just put me in the car as firmly as she made me buy that pregnancy test and Christmas onesie seven months earlier and drove me to the hospital.

And they put me on the monitor and keep me a few hours.  Then they sent me home with Braxton Hicks.  If google had been then I'd been all over that.  Cause y'all, that's what I do.

So Monday came and I worked all day.  Can't remember where.

But Tuesday came and I worked all day.  With the sun to Louisville and back late afternoon.  And I felt bad.  By the time Mama and I hit Carthage all I wanted to do was sleep through me some Braxton Hicks.

And I did.  I went straight to bed on the sofa.  Gregg comes home at eight or so and we call the doctor. We'd done the little minutes thing and pains were three or so minutes apart.  I was told to come on now.

But I didn't want to.  It was Braxton Hicks.  I had six weeks to go. 

So by ten the pains were ninety seconds apart.  And I was told to come NOW.  

But I needed a shower and my hair needed washing.  So Gregg and I fought and I took a shower.  

Then I needed make-up cause I was all cute and pregnant and I was gonna stay cute and I believed pregnant. 

So Gregg and I fought and I put make-up on.

And when they wheeled me into a room my pains were only a minute apart.  And nothing could be done.  It was not Braxton Hicks and when Mama and I were alone in the room I thought my water broke.  

But it was blood.  Lots of blood.  

And I was hemorrhaging and she was coming and I was in trouble.  And so was she.

Then they gave morphine.  And all I remember was burning and some cursing they heard in the waiting room and it was kinda like a TV show when I asked where I was and yelled at them to get her out. 

And that was it.  For over twenty-four hours I remember nothing.  

But when I woke I remember her.  She was tiny.  Preemie, but healthy.


And now it's Mother's Day twenty-six years later and my baby's having a baby.  

And the feeling is a little like amazing mixed with awe and much gratitude. 

My baby girl's first Mother's Day.

My baby's having a baby.  

Drawing of me losing my cool courtesy of budding artist, Izzy.

Have a dressed up day!

. . . put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Colossians 3:12