Last month my middle daughter turned 42 and one of my granddaughters turner 12this month. Time is flying and my girls are growing older and the grandkids are growing up.
I remember vividly when Kellie was born. I had just been put in the hospital with high blood pressure. Ed came by on his lunch hour and I told him I was really hurting. He asked if I thought I was in labor and I told him I had told the nurses and they said I was fine. Little did they know. He left to go back to work and a nurse came in. I said I am really hurting. She checked me and said oh my gosh you are in labor. You didn't eat your lunch did you? I told her I did because they said I was fine, to go ahead and eat. She started out the door with me and I hollered somebody find my husband. He did case work and this was before cell phones. I had the thought that what in the world was I thinking to let myself get pregnant again when delivery was so hard.
They were able to find Ed. My doctor was sailing the high seas and an intern delivered her. I kept asking for something for pain and because I had eaten they wouldn't give me anything. The yound intern was so excited and asked if I wanted to watch the delivery in the mirrors. I said I might as well since I am awake. When she started coming he kept saying oh my gosh, oh my gosh she is so big! Easy for him. She weighted 10 lbs. 2 oz. and was beautiful. Not skinny looking like most newborns. Kellie was a happy baby and child and was a pleasure to raise (most of the time). She never gave us any trouble except for the mischief she got into with her sisters. She would cling to me and I feared she would never want to leave me. Yet she is probably my most independent.
I also vividly remember the day my 12 year old granddaughter was born. Her Mom had been walking around the neighborhood with her husband trying to get her labor going. My oldest daughter was down here to help and we took the other two grandchildren to the park. My oldest daughter was having some problems with her pregnancy so we were concerned about her. My cell phone rang and Marcy said the doctor was putting her into the hospital because she was in labor and the baby was "flat". No one bothered to explain this to me so I panicked, called my husband, left the other 2 children with my oldest daughter and we took off for the hospital. To me flat meant no heart beat. I prayed all the way to the hospital. We quickly went to her room and there they sat laughing and joking like they didn't have a care in the world. I wanted to strangle them. I found out flat meant a slow heart beat meaning the baby was probably asleep. We went back home and our other daughter, Monica, went to the hospital while we babysat. Soon we got the call that the baby was here and everything was okay. There is much more to the story but needless to say she is fine and a joy and pleasure to have as #5 grandchild. She says her papa is her best friend.
When I get down in the dumps about my health and inability to do the things I want to do, I look at pictures of my beautiful daughters and "perfect" grandchildren and realize how blessed I am.