My memory of that day is a little hazy courtesy of the awesome meds, but here's goes...
I remember heading in before the sun came up. That was back when getting up before the sun seemed like a big deal. Headed into the hospital and got me a nice iv of petossin. That was followed directly by an epidural. When I asked the nurse for the epidural, she asked if I was in pain already. I told her no, and that was why I thought that was the best time for an epidural.
So at some point I was in a little pain, at which point my mother passed out, busted her lip and made her own trip to the ER. It was super fun to tell my Dad when he got to the hospital to stop by the ER to see my Mom before he came up to labor and delivery. (Yes, you may laugh at this. At the time it was not funny, but now...just don't laugh where she can hear you.)
I ended up with a C-section. Later that evening my epidural came out (Dude, that was intense.) Anyway, that's not the stuff I remember on her birthday. Cue the sappy music...
I remember everything being like your typical after delivery. Then I remember her being taken to the NICU because she had a blocked bowel from the cf. I remember the fear of not knowing what was going on. I remember the long hallway from my room to hers. Going thru the ominous doors of the NICU. Holding this tiny baby in my arms while trying not to get tangled in the iv cords and monitors hooked to her. I remember the hearing a chorus of beeps and monitors in the midst of learning to change a diaper. (No I did not know how to change a diaper before then.) She had the biggest brown eyes and a head of brown hair. I remember thinking how in the world did she come out with straight hair. She had a yellow sleeper with pink flowers that was a size too big. She would curl up her little legs and put both of them in the same leg of the sleeper. Just staring at her, drinking in this little miracle until visiting hours were over.
I remember taking her home and learning about all the treatments and medications that now seem so normal to us. Being so afraid I would break this sweet, sweet angel. And I remember being so grateful for every day and every long sleepless night.
I remember the way she would sleep with one fist straight up in the air and thinking that was exactly how she was sleeping in the womb. Hence, my not being able to breathe the last month. I remember her perfect tiny toes. I remember the way Wayne's arms could swallow her up. The way she'd wrap her tiny fingers around mine. I remember being sure that no baby had ever been as beautiful and sweet as my lil Gracie.
And each year on October 13, I find myself being overwhelmed by the blessing of another year with the strongest and bravest little girl I've ever known.
