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 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).

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