So for those of you who are still with me on this "journey"; please refer to the last blog and remember that we are still in the time zone of the late 1970's and still VERY pregnant. The due date was set...Nov. 12th.-Underlined...Circled....Squared....Highlighted!
But of course, no one ran that date by the little resident in "Womb 1" who was calling the shots. That date came and went. No action! No pings, no pangs, not even a twitch. OK...no big deal, it's normal to go a few days past the due date. One day rolled into the next, and the next and.....so on.
By the time my next OB appt. rolled around it was already Nov. 19th. A week past due. I just knew my doctor would wave a magic wand; would push something, pull something; snap, pop, crack or bend something and I would be instantly in labor! And to top it off, this was Thanksgiving Week! How much better could it get? I would just give birth to this precious gift on Monday and spend the remainder of the week (and my life) offering up my prayers of thankfulness. Not the way it was going to work. I was checked by the doc and then he said those words....."Well, you are ready to go at anytime. So if I don't see you beforehand, have a nice Thanksgiving and we'll check you again next week."
"Next Week???" Oh, NO-NO-NO-NO! What is he talking about "Next Week"? Doesn't he realize that by next week I was already going to have this precious gift potty trained, enrolled in Pre-Nursery School; colors and shapes learned, "It" would have our home address memorized and THERE WOULD BE PEACE ON EARTH??!!! There was nothing I could do. I put my canvas tent maternity outfit back on, tried to find my feet to put into my shoes, (forget seeing my feet...I hadn't even seen my knees in weeks) and did the penguin stroll out of the exam room. I made the appt for the next week convinced that I would be the first women pregnant for life!.
I lumbered through the next several days and even participated in the family Thanksgiving get-together. AND THEN IT HAPPENED.....Early Friday morning, Nov. 23rd, at 5:15am, on my way back to bed from the 836th trip from the bathroom (I still believe this baby was using my bladder for boxing!) the dam broke and the flood gates opened! Houston, We Have Lift-Off!!!
It's at this point I have to admit something to you, Beth's Dad and I did not take childbirth classes. We both grew up on farms. We had witnessed and helped with both life and death. It comes with farm life. I knew what cattle did when they were about to give birth; seen it many times and I was sure I could somewhat relate it to me giving birth.. The cow usually goes off by herself.,.,.,.,well that's not going to happen. The cow usually bellows......there would be no bellowing, no screaming, no moaning from me....I was a teeth clincher. The cow usually raises her tail.....(O must we go here?)...OK, so I was sure some form of "raising the tail" would occur before all was said and done. The cow then drops the calf.....here's where I'm paying the doc money to have a big enough net to catch this baby. And finally, the cow turns to her baby and licks it.....Not Gonna Happen! There will be lots of kissing and counting fingers and toes but there will be no licking!