Me, change and a birth story.

Well, you guys are awesome. I felt so much better yesterday reading your supportive and helpful comments. So, thanks.

A very wise woman suggested that it might just be the prospect of change that had me feeling uneasy and that is the same conclusion I had reached by the end of the day myself. I don’t personally have a problem embracing change for myself, but I hate imposing change on my kids. I remember when Lisa was in Jr. Kindergarten and I got a phone call that they were starting a new JK class and that Lisa would be moved to that class. Her best friend would not be moving. I was devastated, feeling sick and swoony and wondering how I could possibly break the news to my child, who was still only 3 years old! Well she, of course, was fine and the whole thing was fine, as will be this new daycare situation.

BUT, an aversion to change isn’t the only thing at work here. Part of it is that, it’s Bart. If you haven’t figured it our from this, or this, or this, or this… Bart is my special little guy. He’s sweet and funny and lives in his own magical little world. I’m overprotective of him, not because I think he’s weak or over-sensitive, but because I think that sometimes the rest of the world doesn’t really understand him. He’s not odd, by any means, but he is unconventional, carefree and a little theatrical, which is different than most of the boys around. It’s not his fault… he was born that way. I thought it might be fun to share his birth story. Don’t worry, it’s short and maybe even a little exciting:

May 28, 2003 (three weeks before expected due date)

5:45 PM – Lisa and I pick up Homer from the train. We decide to stop at the shopping plaza on the way home for a couple of things.

6:00 PM – Drop Homer off at the Wal-Mart door. I’ll find a parking spot and take Lisa with me to the drug store.

6:05 PM – Lift Lisa out of the car seat. My water breaks. Try to call Homer on his cell, which is obviously off.

6:10 PM – Tie my jacket around my waist (because my pants are soaked) and haul Lisa into Wal-Mart, where I ask them to page Homer.

6:15 PM – We’re back in the car heading home.

6:25 PM – We’re back home and I call the hospital. Because my contractions haven’t started yet, they advise me to have a shower, have some dinner and then come in for an assessment.

6:30 PM – After a very brief discussion, Homer and I agree that I should just change my clothes and head to the hospital. He calls the babysitter to let her know we’re on our way.

6:40 PM – We’re back in the car. I’m driving (another story for another day).

6:50 PM – I feel my first contraction. Homer times it. 27 seconds apart. That can’t be right. This time it’s 23 seconds apart.

6:55 PM – We arrive at the babysitters and pretty much throw Lisa out of the car. I can’t drive anymore, so Homer takes over.

7:05 PM – Arrive at Labour & Delivery Ward. They’re surprised to see me, but understand when they see how close my contractions are. I quickly change into a gown and they put me in an assessment room with a medical student.

7:10 PM – The medical student is screaming DON’T PUSH and there’s a lot of frantic activity in the area. A grown-up nurse arrives.

7:12 PM – Bart is born. 9 lbs, 10 oz. 22 inches long.


We were a bit of a novelty on the maternity ward… “oh you’re the one that almost didn’t make it!”