Today my older daughter turns 30. Still struggling to wrap my brain around that one. As I thought about that, I remembered her birth day and wrote her a letter…
Hi.
Last night I was thinking about you, about your birthday, and about your birth day. You so didn’t want to come out! You were late. The doctor decided since I was having serious bronchitis that it was time to induce. They hooked me up to a pitosin drip around 4:30 in the afternoon and then broke my water about 6:15PM.
At that time the hospital in Norwalk didn’t have birthing rooms. The labor and delivery area was set up with around 8 beds, separated by curtains—no real privacy. I decided right there and then that I wasn’t going to be screaming or yelling during delivery.
Since it was Monday night, your dad and I decided to watch one of our favorite shows, ‘That’s Incredible.’ I will never forget that because that night they had a story on there about a woman in a Central American country who had over 50 children. There were several multiple births, but even still, I struggled to imagine it. But I sure wasn’t going to follow in her footsteps.
The only other show I remember was some war movie your dad was watching that I finally got him to change off of because I couldn’t stand the noise of the gun fights or all the blood.
The only “assistance” I got was a pain shot, not an epidural. It didn’t help much. At around 4:00AM I wanted to start pushing, but wasn’t cervix wasn’t ready, so it was like you were just banging your head. It’s why your poor little head was so bruised. You looked like a really ripe peach. I felt so bad.
Finally, at 8:42AM you made your appearance. You were the biggest baby in the nursery. Everyone loved your chubby cheeks. You were also one of the best babies in the nursery. Instantly you made me the proud Mama!
The way the OB dept. was set up I had to share a room. The lady I shared the room with got a big kick out of telling people she was sharing the room with a minister. She had her baby by c-section and she weighed around 7lbs. One time when they brought us our babies they tried to give me her baby, as if I wouldn’t know my baby. I had memorized everything about you. No one could have slipped one up on me.
The other thing I remember is just sitting in my bed and talking, singing, and praying over you. And weeping, tears of joy and thankfulness. I felt so blessed. And I still do.
I don’t know how you are 30. I don’t feel old enough for you to be that old. But I treasure each year we’ve had together and hope we get 30 more. We’ll carry on the scrabble tradition, games, laughter, and lots and lots of love.
Love you tremendously and fiercely #1,
MMMT (Stands for Mom, Mom, Mom, Tina–I’m not always the easiest person to get the attention of…)
Pot of Manna 