The Night Before Tripp Was Born. Part 2 of THE SAGA

June 4, 2005

In the early afternoon, the contractions started again. I knew that this time, I was having a baby. So I started getting ready. I vacuumed out the van. I ironed all of Emma's clothes for the week. About six that night, I took Emma and Eli and we went and got groceries at Wal-Mart.

While I was there, I ran into Dr. Terry.

I told him that I would see him in a few hours. He just laughed.

My contractions became much worse over time. I knew that Dave would be home about midnight, and I did not know if I would make it that long. I put the kids to bed about nine. Then I showered, put the finishing touches on my bag, and got comfy in my mu-mu. And I waited.

Around 11 p.m., Dave called. He was going to be home soon! When he drug himself in a few minutes later, I could tell how tired he was. So, I did not say anything yet. But I knew it wouldn't be long.

He walks by me in the laundry room, rubs the baby and says,"Boy, your belly is tight." So I say, "That's because I am in labor."

I would like to say that he ignored me, but that may be a little inaccurate. Maybe he was just hoping it wasn't true.

So then he says, "Are ya hungry?" So I cook him a cheap pizza. And he ate it. And I think I was baking cookies, too. And he ate those, too.

After some time, he turns to me and says, "You ready to go to bed?"
And then I say, "Buddy, your not gettin' it. I am in labor."
And he says, "Don't you think your are over-exaggerating?"

And I killed him. Well, not really. But I could have.
So, he gets his paper. And he starts to time my contractions.
And then he says, "well, they are 5 minutes apart." Surprise!
And then he says, "You ready to go to bed?"
And then I say, "I am calling your mother. I am having his baby tonight. You can go to bed and call me in the morning. I am going to the hospital."

We called my sweet mother in law. She came over and looked like, well, like she had just been woke up at 3 a.m. A little shocked, but a lot excited, too.

And off to the hospital we went.

Dave carried in his laptop so he could catch up on some paperwork. And, he took the papers from the previous week, so he could catch up on the latest going-ons of the town.
Imagine his surprise - about 5 a.m. - when Nurse Amanda says, "well, you are having a baby.
In about an hour."

****disclaimer****

This story is told to the best of my recollection... I was in labor. It hurt a lot. Like, really bad.

Four years ago today.

Four years ago today, I was 36 weeks pregnant.

Four years ago today, I had a 20 month old daughter. And a nine year old son.

Four years ago today, I woke up in a hotel room in Nashville, TN after visiting my husband. He had been gone for about a week. He was heading up the building of the Cheesecake Factory in Nashville.

Four years ago today, I wore denim overalls from Motherhood and a white tshirt. And flip flops.

Four years ago today, I had plans to go buy baby stuff at Babies R Us... then, go home with the two kids and finish getting my baby stuff ready. Little did I know that when I woke up and went to shower that morning, my mucus plug would dribble, or drop out, or whatever it does. It stopped the shopping plans.

Four years ago today, I ate lunch at a hamburger joint in Green Hills at the mall, and I saw on TV that the guy who was "Deep Throat" in Watergate died. I found much enjoyment of running around all day saying "Deep Throat." In my "deep throat" voice. With my 50 inch belly jiggling.

Four years ago today, my mother spent the night with me. It was one of the best times in my life. It was the first time in many years that she was "my momma." I had no idea that it would never happen again.

Four years ago today, I spent the afternoon doing laundry, and getting stuff ready because I started having contractions. Really bad contractions. I realized when I saw Dave the day before that he was so tired. so. so. tired. So I didn't tell him. And when I drove myself to the hospital that night, all by myself, at about 10 p.m., I had devised my plan of how to call Dave - just at the right moment - because I knew that I would have a one and one half hour time slot for him to leave Nashville and make it to the hospital justintime to see the baby arrive.

Four years ago tonight, Dr. Terry stopped my labor. I was PISSED. But, he said if I went into labor again, he would let me deliver. So I spent the night in the hospital and never called my husband to tell him where I was. Why give him extra worry? Well, that backfired on me, four years ago tomorrow. He was PISSED.

Four years ago today, I would have never dreamed that I would be getting ready to celebrate my last babies' birthday, in just two days. And that my daughter would be 5 1/2 and my firstborn son would be 13, so quickly. And that I would be loving my kids so much.

The Mommy Club. And what is important.

During all the years that I have been a mother, there has always seemed to be some sort of standards for mothers from those in particular groups that I have hung out with. For example, in the past five years, I have observed the importance of these things:

1. What does your husband do/how much money does he earn?
2. Where does your children go to school/what preschool are they going to attend?
3. What type of diaper bag do you carry?
4. What brand of dress is your daughter wearing?
5. Do you have cool sippy cup labels?
6. Whose child is the prettiest/best behaved/smartest?

Yes, the list goes on and on. It just changes with the age of the kid(s) in question.

Once I got "out of the loop" and became different than other "mommies in the club" by going to work and school, it seems that I have changed in caring of what the other mom's thought of me.

For example, when Emma was one (!) I was asked at a playgroup by a group of mothers "where I had her on the list for preschool." Well, I had no list. I didn't know about a list. How could I not know about a list?!?

See, such things were always important to me. I just recently (well, as recent as today, in fact) figured out that I have always based my capabilities of being a good mother on keeping up with or outdo-ing others.

That is not what makes a good mother at all.

A good mother is made up of time, hugs and kisses, playing, cuddling and listening. There are so many qualities that make up a good mother. But, the type of dress, type of minivan, and type of activities do not define a good mother. What a relief it is for me to have this realization.

How did I come to this conclusion, you ask?

Well, as Tripp turns four this Friday, I am preparing for his birthday party - but I just started today. This is foreign for me. I am always months ahead in planning, down to the theme-matching outfit, color coordinated goody bag contents, and the coordinated brother-sister outfits. Yet today, my dad had (yet another) heart procedure, summer school has just started, my house is a wreck and I work a full time job.

As I started with the goody bags, I had an epiphany.

Tripp doesn't care.

The only person that cares is me.

The kids - as well as the party-goers - will not remember anything about the decorations, whether Tripp's swimming trunks matched his cake, or whether the color of the cups matched the color of the potato chips.

They will remember having fun.

Tripp will remember playing, laughing, and being with family and friends on such an important day.

And that is the most important thing. This knowledge will help me be a better mother.