September 25th is one of those days I will never forget. Nine months earlier, you were given to me as a Christmas gift. Your father said I could open it in 9 months. And nine months to the day, you wanted out.

I was making molasses crinkles for dessert and manicotti for dinner. My sister-in-law Claire had been watching me as I was cleaning up after dinner and doing the dishes. She asked me how I felt and I said that my back was hurting a little. She told me I was in labor and that I should call Joe. I did not even know I was in labor!

Joe worked at Walgreen’s grill in Christown back then and we lived on Cave Creek Road and Sweetwater. It took him over an hour to get home that day. He was very excited and scared when he got home after stopping at Circle K to buy a supply of comic books and a drink for his big night.

I don’t remember much—I was young and that is the way I am—but I remember that they told me I was too loud and that your dad would have to leave if I did not quiet down. Joe said that the pain cannot be that bad. So on the next contraction I grabbed his side and squeezed: he was the one in pain that time! (The next day he had a big bruise on his side.)

He told the nurse that I was in pain and to call the doctor. Next thing I knew I was on my way to X-ray and then a C-section. I am sure I was scared to death but with your dad by my side, everything was going to be fine. I was scared in surgery but I knew he was waiting on the other side of the door for me.

When I woke up, he was all smiles because both his girls were fine. He was so proud of you. We have always said, “Your children are yours till the day you die.” I guess we were wrong as he is still teaching us things: I guess you are ours for eternity.

Love forever and ever, Mom and Dad

“Life gives us brief moments with another…but sometimes in those brief moment we get memories that last a life time…” ~Unknown

“Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.” ~From the television show The Wonder Years

All I have from Elizabeth are memories. Today I hold onto them especially tightly. I miss her deeply and long for the day I can hold her again.

Just kidding, they’re right here. I haven’t cleaned up the layout (and it’s not very girly at all), but at least they’re up.

Enjoy!

[UPDATE: Oh, and I'll be titling the pictures and putting descriptions up over the next couple of weeks. It may be sooner, but—you know—I just had a baby.]

First things first, we aren’t sure if we’re going to name her Eliza. We’ve always said that we want to see her before we pick a name and she kind of looks like a Madeleine (pronounced like the character in the book of the same name). But we do really, really like the name Eliza so we’re kind of torn. We already put off the birth records lady once and we’d really like to have a name chosen for when she comes back tomorrow.

Second, I’m sorry about the lack of detail and length for the play-by-play entries. I was typing on a phone keypad and the messages were limited in length. I would’ve liked to go into more detail, but I really couldn’t.

I’m back at home now after taking The Girls to see their new sister. They loved her! I was very surprised at how Annie couldn’t take her eyes off her and craned to get a better look whenever she could. Kimberly, unsurprisingly, gave her a kiss and couldn’t stop saying “Baby.” They were interested in the new addition until they discovered cabinets full of pillows. They’re only 18 months old (one yes, the other practically). How can a cute, burrito-wrapped little bundle of joy that they can’t even poke compete with scattering hospital pillows around the room?

Finally, here’s how the night’s events unfolded now that I have a little more space to write. Basically, we sat in triage from approximately 6 pm until maybe 10:45 or 11:00. When I said that there was only 15 minutes to go, that’s what they told us because we were just waiting on another doctor to arrive. While we were waiting, one or two other C-sections bumped us. Our nurse this morning told us that there were 12 C-sections yesterday—all using one operating room!

When we finally made it to OR’s anteroom, I’ll confess that I really started to worry. I had forgotten how nervous I got while waiting for Sandi to be prepped for Annie. Phew! There’s nothing like waiting to accompany the love of your life into a room where she will undergo major surgery. Ugh.

In the operating room, Sandi was completely awake and aware. I think it was a much better experience for her this time even though she could feel a lot more of the tugging and the pulling and the yanking than she did the last time. She watched me watching the nurse evaluate our daughter, she watched me carrying our daughter around, and she even got to kiss her.

The breastfeeding went stunningly. We couldn’t believe how well she took to it and also how voracious she was.

All in all, this is the start of a new chapter in our life and I couldn’t be more excited to see how it turns out. The longer I live, the more anxious I am to see what I make of myself and my family—that sounds odd and disconnected but it’s really not. I can’t believe my good fortune to have such an amazing wife (who totally deserves that purse) and three wonderful daughters (two-thirds of whom have names that I can use to refer to them).

Thank you for tuning in during this momentous event. I will try to repay your attention, assistance, and kind wishes with a huge gallery of photos. Sandi’s probably already downloaded them to my computer at the hospital. Now I just need to figure out the best way to showcase them.

[UPDATE: Called the good doctor and he said to try laying down for a bit and see if the contractions subside. We got the suitcase packed and ready, so Sandi's going to try to get some shut-eye. I doubt I'll be able to, though.]