I forgot about Three. His birthday came and went, and I didn't share any of the details of his birth. I'm sure a psychiatrist would have something to say about that. So let me correct my error, and regale you with the story of my second January baby.
All of my children arrived before they were due. I think this had more to do with me than them, because I was never willing to wait for complete gestation. This may be hard to believe, but I can be somewhat non-compliant. By the time I got to thirty-seven weeks with each pregnancy, I was over it. I would begin actively lobbying my obstetrician for help in moving things along. If you have been pregnant, you know how uncomfortable one can be in that last month. Uncomfortable enough to allow manual manipulation of one's cervix. Yes, it is as horrid as you imagine.
There was a problem with timing Three's birth. Macy's takes its inventory in January. I had managed to keep Two inside me long enough to allow a proper count, but I didn't hold out the same hope for Three. Furthermore, the weather in January can be fickle. Two had been born right after a blizzard, so I worried the Captain might be trapped in New York when Three made his debut.
All my worries were for naught. I went into labor on a drizzly afternoon, and after timing my contractions I called my mom for a ride to the hospital. The nurses hooked me up to the monitors and confirmed that I was in labor. I stayed that way for hours. Evening rolled in, and a decision needed to be made about sending me home. When I reminded the nurses that my previous delivery had been precipitous, they agreed to let me stay overnight. They gave me a sleep aid, I rolled onto my right side, and I passed out.
On the morning of January tenth, my doctor started a drip with a bit of Pitocin, I got an epidural, and a few hours later Three joined our family. He was my largest baby, at eight pounds and three ounces, and of course he was beautiful.
Last week I went downstairs to wake him for school. I smothered him with birthday kisses, and he became conscious enough to ask me what time he was born.
"I don't know," I answered. "A few of you were born around eleven a.m., and a bunch of you arrived closer to two in the afternoon. I do remember, however, that I got a fantastic night of sleep the day before you were born."
Three stretched, and uttered the phrase that only he would think.
Late morning addendum: I woke up today and read all the news about the SOPA strike, which is an Internet based movement designed to raise awareness about a new bill that threatens us all. Read about it here: http://sopastrike.com/strike/. If you enjoy The Lone Woman Diaries, where I routinely print the lyrics to songs, and sometimes even the videos, please sign the online petition. I don't know about you, but I like my freedom.