Gray's Day

The doctor scheduled me to be induced on Friday. It was two weeks before the baby was due, so I was feeling fortunate. A final check on Wednesday confirmed that things were ready to go, but also triggered a lot of Braxton-Hicks contractions. Still, the end was in sight, and I figured I could handle anything for just 2 more days. Almost.

I wasn't expecting to go into labor when I awoke just after 1:30 with cramping and discomfort. Mr. E wanted to call the doctor, but I had just seen her that very day and didn't want to look foolish. I told Mr. E to be patient -- it was only 2 more days.

But when I stopped talking during the contractions, Mr. E called the hospital and put me on the line. They thought I should come in just to see what was going on, and if anything was happening they'd call the doc. (What they told Mr. E, though, was to get me there immediately.) While Mr. E paced, I wobbled to the shower like a drunken sailor and proceeded to shave my legs the best I could under the circumstances. I couldn't bear the thought of being prickly! What if they admitted me to wait for 2 more days?

Mr. E called the friends who'd agreed to watch our daughter, and we left as they arrived. The cliche of a panicked father stampeding to the hospital with his pregnant wife kept me giggling the whole way there, except for when I couldn't breathe through the pain. As we entered the elevator at 3:45am, I asked Mr. E to turn around and go home. I knew they were going to pat me on the head, have a gentle laugh at my expense, and tell me to call my doctor in the morning. But as we exited the elevator, a liquid whoosh apprised me that perhaps I was in labor afterall. But it couldn't be!! I was going to be induced in 2 more days!!!

Precipitous labor is what they call it, the kind where the contractions bear down upon one another with little or no break in between. It often results in hurriedly delivered babies. Ours was born at 5:00am straight up, two weeks and 2 days early.

That was 9 years ago today. And he's been doing everything precipitously ever since. He has certainly rushed through early childhood, and like that morning in 1996, I am left wondering how did this happen so fast? He loves sports, math, art, reading, music, his sister and his brother. He's quick, witty, stubborn, smart, gracious, athletic and responsible. He laughs easily and often, and embraces joy as though it were his personal friend. Perhaps it is. If so, joy has chosen wisely, for a better friend would be hard to find. Even at his young age, he is someone I'm proud to know. I guess I shouldn't be surprised... he's been in a rush since the day he was born.





I love you, Gray. Happy Birthday!