5 Years Old

Five years ago today I sat in a hospital bed.  Right about this time I was starting to get squirmy with the pain.  Andrew sat on the couch watching CSI, still in denial that we were even having a baby.

My water had sprung a leak, confirmed by the doctor that morning at my appointment, and he had said "Do not pass go.  Do not collect $200.  And don't be a hero.  You get that epidural whenever you're ready."  I had arrived around 11:30 to the hospital, more in shock than anything else.  I had surprised myself by not being scared for labor and delivery throughout the pregnancy.  I had surprised myself even more by still not being scared.  Just in shock.

It was a long day and I spent most of it looking out the window to Logan peak and thinking "This is the perfect day for a baby to be born."  It was sunny and beautiful outside.  

Around four the pain was bad and Andrew was holding my hand with that look on his face that made me want to cry.  The look that said he was sorry that I had to go through it.  The look that said he felt useless not being able to be the handy-man and fix everything.  We called in the anesthesiologist and got ready for the epidural.  He opened my robe and said, "Wow, that's a long back!"  I knew my torso was long but it got medically proven that day.  The worst part of the epidural was the cold.  My entire back exposed, cleaned with alcohol, and then sprayed with adhesive.  I was freezing.  When the tingly warm of the epidural kicked in and they piled on the heated blankets I was a happy girl.  My leg kept falling off the bed because I would wiggle my lower leg but couldn't lift since my thighs were numb.  Finally, Andrew had something he could do to be handy.  His job was to put my legs back on the bed when they'd fall off.  Once I was able to relax from the epidural things really started moving.  Water got broken the rest of the way, the pressure started, the hour wait before pushing and the hate for the nurse because of it, the half hour of pushing and a beautiful baby at 8:57.  I am one of those weirdo's who enjoyed labor and delivery in spite of the pain.

Ella was crazy inside the womb.  She was always on the move, so filled with energy.  She still is.  Ella is funny, energetic, enthusiastic, and just the sweetest girl ever.

I'm so proud to be her mommy.   She is a mini-me and I couldn't be more proud.  Even if she has decided she doesn't want to play french horn.  She's shooting for violin instead.  Happy Birthday Ella Jane!