Sunday, April 18, 2010

11 Years Ago on a Sunday

(this was originally posted last year. I thought it merited another appearance. It's a pretty cool story and just goes to show...never say you CAN'T do anything because God will show you different! Enjoy. And Happy 11th Birthday, Arissa. You will forever be my Hootie Bootie)

Anyone who knows my Arissa knows she is a bird of a different feather. She thrives on being different. She is sassy and has a mouth (much like her mothers) that has a mind of it's own. She can be the kindest, sweetest girl one moment and a tornado the next. You never know which Arissa you are going to get.

Arissa roared into this world 11 years ago today with an entrance like no other..........

It was Saturday, April 17th, and Kathy and her kids were over. Kamry toppled over and I thought nothing of bending over and scooping her up. The rest of the day I felt 'off'. I wasn't having contractions or any other signs of labor but I just felt weird. I didn't mention it to anybody because I didn't think it was worth mentioning. I went to sleep that night after watching Saturday Night Live (the episode where Jennifer Love Hewitt was in labor and the cheerleaders were in the labor room. I remember thinking that would be my luck..being in labor and Carol and Kathy making jokes and cheerleading in my room). Four hours later I woke up with an odd pain. Followed by another odd pain. Then another and another. I got up thinking that walking would make it go away. I went to the bathroom. I walked some more. I packed a bag. And cussed. And walked. Called the OB, who told me to get to the hospital. I clearly remember saying that this BETTER be real labor because if this is false labor than God is an evil, evil man. I called my mom (who, for reasons that aren't worth getting into, was my way to the hospital. Where there were medical professionals. And epidurals). We were a solid 30 minutes from each other, even at 4am and she felt the need to shower before coming to get me.

I thought the bathroom held the answers to all of issues so off I went again. Only this time something was certainly not right. Not right AT ALL. Without getting too horribly graphic lets just say that pressure I was trying to relieve was NOT what I thought it was. It was MY CHILDS HEAD. Yes, right there. Cue Anne freaking out. A call was made to 911. Arguments ensued regarding my full denial of what was happening and that there was no way in the world this was happening there because I hadn't had my epidural. Clearly, Arissa didn't get the memo and was coming whether I had been medicated or not. One push...her head. Mom finally gets there, lays upon me in an effort to make it all better, only to be tossed off by my super human strength to show her the baby between my legs. Next contraction, one push and there she was.

5:20 am 4-18-1999 A perfect screaming baby girl. Perfect timing...the fire department showed up and took over. I called my OB back to tell him not to worry about going to the hospital, I had taken care of the delivery already. The ambulance came, loaded us up and off we went to the hospital. I thought that was rather stupid since the hard part was already done but wasn't really in a position to argue. We got a few hours of rest before the revolving door of visitors started.

There wasn't a minute of that Sunday where we didn't have a visitor. Maybe it was because it was a Sunday; maybe it was because of the way she was born...either way it was awesome. We were on the news a few weeks later. Arissa's claim to fame...she will forever be known as 'the bathroom baby'.

One day she'll think the way she was born is as awesome of a story as it is. Right now? She thinks it's horrible. I tell her it could be worse..at least I had the sense to get off the toilet and onto the floor! (2010 edit: she has since come to the conclusion that yes, a bathroom floor birth is pretty darn cool).

Friday, April 16, 2010

Hidden Gems

I've been on Facebook for over a year. One day I got a friend request from a classmate who had a name I vaguely remembered. She had gotten married and her maiden name wasn't listed but her first name is rather unusual so I had a hunch who it was. I accepted her request and didn't think much else about it. She commented on a few of my status updates; I did the same on hers. It wasn't long before we were private messaging each other. The more we "talked" the more we realized we shared the same likes and dislikes; troubles and triumphs; convictions and opinions. It was amazing how we had gone to school together for years yet were never friends. I couldn't believe this was the same girl from back then. I finally asked her what her maiden name was. And I was shocked. This wonderfully kind, sweet, hysterically funny woman was the same girl I was terrified of all those years ago. A month or so after our online meeting we met for dinner. And we talked for hours and hours. Like we'd known each other our whole lives. We talked about why we were just now finding each other. And I told her that I was scared of her. Come to find out, she was just as intimidated by me as I was of her.

Today we were able to spend hours together, just being silly girls. We did the mani/pedi thing; walked thru shops; laughed; helped each other pick out what we were looking for; and were just US. I'm certain that to those on the outside looking in, we were two friends who do this all the time and have known each other for years. I love that about our friendship. We live four hours away from each other, but you'd never know it. We talk on the phone often. I know her children, husband, and mother like I know my own...though I've only met the husband for a few minutes. She knows all about my children, my husband, my parents and sisters....though she's never met any of them.

The only thing I'm sad about when it comes to her? (Well, besides the fact that she lives so DARN FAR AWAY)..Is that we let stupid, preconceived notions about each other keep us from finding our friendship all those years ago.

I can count on one hand my true friends. She is one of those fingers...my shiny, sparkly, spunky gem.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Because She Said She Would

I remember a little 4 year old girl that once told me she was going to cheer for the middle school when she was older. I remember looking at her cheering skills and thinking to myself she had herself quite the pipe dream. Of course, being the supportive parent I am, I never told her my doubts.

But look at these pictures, taken several years ago...I don't even recall how old she was here. Probably 5. You'll see why I had my doubts:








But over the years, she worked her tail off. She cheered every single year. She was blessed with amazing coaches as well as a very supportive family. I can't begin to count the amount of hours spent by her grandparents, aunts, and us (sometimes sweating, sometimes freezing, but always waiting on games running at least an hour behind) at the ball fields watching her cheer her little uncoordinated heart out. She was always proud. She was always confident. She was never aware just how adorably terrible she was. She learned the techniques of her passion. Never giving up.
Thursday was THE DAY. The day that we had been waiting 6 long years for. Middle school cheer leading tryouts. She came out of tryouts feeling great about what she had done. She told me she couldn't have done any better. I assured her that even if she didn't make the squad, it was okay. Because you can't do any better than your best. So we came home to wait the 3 longest hours of our lives before results were posted. She asked us to wait in the van as she nervously went to read the names posted on door. I stood anxiously waiting. And she turned to me. She ran as fast as her feet would take her, yet they never hit the ground. My sweet girl leaped into my arms and sobbed. I put her down. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, "I did it".
Of course you did, baby. Because you said you would.