the Birth day...

I had a baby.

Well, I had a baby. Past tense.

Eleven years ago today.

Right now, eleven years ago I was watching a ProAm golf tournament in a hospital room. I was busy timing the space between contractions and trying to keep track of my husband who was continuously turning various shades of green. I repeatedly asked the nurses to attend to him, but they kept their attentions on me instead despite my protestations.

I'd never had a baby before. And haven't had one since.

The day I gave birth, my friend and manicurist found herself with child. At each visit she'd query me about my birthing experience. As if I were now an expert. She'd ask me, "What were your hormone levels? What tests did you have? What were the results of your amniocentesis? How many Lamaze classes did you go to? What are your thoughts on water births...?"

Now, I found her enthusiasm with her pregnancy amusing. Her overwhelming curiosity and involvement made me question how little I had known about my own. My theory was, "I'm pregnant. When it's time, they'll tell me what to do." Which they did.

And everything went fine.

I have a plaque in my dressing room that reads; Better Living Through Denial.

I love that.

It works for me.

I wouldn't suggest it as a mantra to others, but for me, sometimes it's a damn blessing.

Boo asked me last night to recant, again, about the events right before she was born...

It had been snowing for 3 days. I had already been out clearing the driveway from new fallen snow...twice. A few of my neighbors had stopped while driving by and asked incredulously, "What are you doing?!!!"

"I'm snowblowing the driveway. What does it look like I'm doing?"

I didn't get it that a woman nine months pregnant possibly shouldn't be working heavy machinery. In my head I thought,"Seriously folks. All I have to do was walk behind it!" Plus the snow was beautiful! I wasn't able to ski that year, or sled, so I was Jones'ing for that cold stuff. Why wouldn't I want to be out in it? I didn't consider what I must have looked like to passerbys; Me. Out in the driveway shoveling snow. Hugely pregnant. Wearing my husbands parka, since my own had long ceased to fasten.

I didn't approach having a baby with the inability to do things. My pregnancy never got in the way. Unless I turned to the side, straight on I looked about the same.

I even hosted a New Year's Eve extravaganza dinner party that year. Cooking all seven courses myself. My feet seemingly swelling with each one. Unable to partake in the wine served, I enjoyed the festivities nonetheless...elegant in my black velvet ensemble. I remember wearing large chandelier earrings thinking that they would distract attention from my bulging midsection.

When your chef's apron ties fit, rather than having to wrap them...you know you must be HUGE.

The evening I went into labor, we chose to sleep in the guest bedroom. It's located on the second floor of our home as opposed to our suite on the third. Why? I haven't any idea. We never slept in that room, but that night we did. In the middle of the night I awoke disoriented and perplexed. I wasn't sure where I was. And what possibly did I eat that was giving me such stomach pains?!

It was then that it dawned on me.

Dear God. I'm going into labor.

I woke up my husband who immediately jumped out of bed and got the car running.

"I'm not going anywhere until I shower..."

He argued against it, but I won. Go figure.

Don't argue with a pregnant woman. Ever.

Especially one in labor.

By the time we left for the hospital, not only was the car warm (from running for the last three quarters of an hour), but the drive was still relatively clear for our departure due to my work out there earlier. Blizzard. Bah.

There weren't any cars around. Everything was still; quiet. Snow still gently falling. Peaceful.

Just how I felt.

My labor wasn't like what you see in the movies. I didn't scream. Or call out obscenities towards my impregnantor. I just followed directions. Pretty simple stuff. No complications. Just me, the nurses, the doctor, some pro golf and a green husband.

And thus, Boo was born.

Eleven years ago today.

Happy Birthday Baby!

She still lets me call her that...Baby.

And as all the mom's out there know, no matter how much time passes...they will always, always be our babies.

:-)