The Day She Was Born

Whenever we went on car trips growing up, my dad would tell the best stories. There were Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Jack and the Beanstalk and The Three Little Pigs and I loved them all but the best was when Dad would tell the story of the day I was born. I still remember every detail and now that I'm older, I feel very sorry for my mom who was delivering me while dad watched baseball in the other room. Some things have definitely changed for the better.

Tomorrow, MGD, Margaret Grace or Margarita Graciela Preciosa Doyle (her Spanish name) will turn six years old. Six. Can you believe it? I can't except that, in some ways, she seems even older than that. Because she was born on the sixth, this is her golden birthday so we've been doing a little extra celebrating. I'll tell you about that and post the best of the photos later. Tonight, I will do my best to follow in Dad's footsteps and tell the story of the day we met our Gracie.

It was Labor Day--just as tomorrow is--a hot day in Beaumont, TX and about mid-morning, I realized that I was going into labor. I'll spare you the details about how I knew that but I remember thinking, "Wow-in about eight hours, I'll be holding this baby". I kept a sort of private countdown going from then on. Mia and Madeleine were playing on the sports court in our little pool and Chris and I started timing contractions and making arrangements to call the friends who would be watching the girls. We left for the hospital before I was in a huge amount of pain. It's always tricky deciding when to leave the house. None of my labors has been short and laboring naturally at the hospital is difficult because of all the monitoring they do. We timed it pretty well with Grace and got there with time to set up music (David Kauffman "Be Still") and get comfortable in the room before transition hit. I remember that our doctor, Doctor Sherman, was there early and chatting with us. She was a family friend from church as well as my OBGYN. I was having difficulty balancing contractions and polite conversation so I just quit trying and started walking the halls and hitting the shower again. When things got really intense (ie extremely, horribly painful), I had to turn off the music and just focus until it was finally time to deliver Baby G--about 5:00 PM. She was the most painful of the five girls to actually give birth to. I think I even yelled--a first and last for me--I don't know why that was but I was so incredibly relieved to hold her in my arms and have the labor part behind me.

So, that's it. We've been fortunate that all of our babies have decided to come at very reasonable times of day so nothing noteworthy there either. Grace did come after we suffered two rather late miscarriages. We weren't sure we would ever have another baby and when we held Grace and saw that huge mop of dark, dark hair, we were so incredibly grateful. I still am. She brings so much joy and, well, if you know her, you know what else--so many things. I pray that God blesses her with every good gift and keeps her close to Him as she grows into the young lady he made her to be.

We love you, G! Happy Birthday to you!