Saturday, March 01, 2008

Nine is Fine

But 10 can wait! Can you believe that my baby is nine years old. It just doesn't seem possible. Then again, it seems as though he has always been here. My life must have been so boring before he came along.

So, for his birthday, because my brother is getting married and there were showers going on for that, he opted to skip the big party and just requested a PSP and a Mexican supper at home. I did my very best to deliver.

We had everything I could think of that was Mexican. We made refried beans, soft tacos (Dylan's adament request), Mexican rice, diced tomatoes, queso, salsa, diced onion, shredded lettuce, cheddar cheese, tostitos and my favorite, the shredded Mozarella cheese that Wade had fun making fun of because that is Italian, not Mexican. Who knew?

He liked it, Mozarella cheese or not!

Dad made his traditional cake. Dylan requested strawberry cake with vanilla frosting. It was yummy!

Dylan's was a perfect pregnancy. I was sleepy, which I love to sleep, it is one of my favorite things to do! I was glowing. I was healthy. There were no concerns or scares. It was just perfect.

Is there really such a thing as a smooth delivery? I don't think so. With Dylan I threw up in the floor while in labor and of course, offered to help clean it up. Throwing up, in turn, broke my water. I started labor in the middle of friends, 8:00 p.m., on Thursday, February 25, 1999. I was already at the hospital being enduced. I labored for 12 hours before he entered the world...silent. I felt nothing through the few pushes it took and even declared immediately after, "Wow, that was easy. I could do that again."

All of a sudden, everything was no longer "easy". I remember that no one was telling me what was going on, but every one was suddenly rushing. Numbers were being dialed on the little telephones and the word "STAT" was being used. Then a breathless doctor came running in the room with a big toolbox exclaiming about how fast she had gotten there. They went to work on Dylan, who was grey and not whimpering a sound. He lay limp. They shook him and his little body just jiggled, but did not fight back. The cord had been wrapped around his neck and he was not breathing. It all happened in minutes.

I remember that I was not scared at first. I was calm and felt that they had everything under control. Once that doctor came running in and I saw what they were doing I began to realize that something was not right, but still, I felt calm and that everything was going to be fine.

Then, there it was. The sweetest gurgled cry. Those teeny hands flailing in the air wondering what they were feeling, why they were no longer warm and all smooshed into his little cramped home he they known for nine months. There were, "'There ya goes' and 'Good boys'. Then a bundle of joy was placed in my arms. When he was born, he scored a 1 on his APGAR test. Now he scored an 8. In my book, he was a 10. Perfect. In every way.

Dylan is the most laid back, calm child. He is so sweet, sensitive and so mature. He is smart, intellectual and not to mention handsome. He can sing karaoke like the Jonas Brothers, watch over his younger siblings without complaint, cook and he will charm the pants off of you with that small smile.

Lord, thank you so much for Dylan. What a precious gift this child is. I pray that I have him for at least 90 more years to come.

Love ya, Dylan!


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