Since tomorrow is Dutchy’s 5th birthday, I thought it would be appropriate to share a little “labor story”.
After having three children, with three very different labors, I have come to the conclusion that a child’s labor is indicative to their future personality. With each labor experience I have had, their personality seems to follow suit.
3 birthing stories that foretold 3 personalities
With Daxx, my first born, my water broke but my body never went into labor. I was put on pitocin and told that if I didn’t progress quickly I would have to have a c-section. I labored through the night, with no progress. The doctor came in the room to prep me for surgery. She decided to “check me” one last time, when, waaallaa, I was ready to push. Daxx has always taken his merry time when it’s his time to “perform”, then and now.
Also, apparently, he was clutching the umbilical cord tightly, causing himself distress. Again, very indicative of his character today. ha!
Then along came Zadie Ann. My sweet precious, do-it-my-own-way, Zadie. Zadie was 10 days over due. TEN DAYS. This is funny now, but not funny then. But, regardless of her late arrival, she had a beautiful birth. It was quick, painless, and almost picture perfect, just like my little girl is in real life. She was a doll baby then, and still is today. (If she wasn’t i don’t think I could handle my life. Thank you to Jesus, who spared me just a little when He created her.)
#3: And then there was Dutch.
First let me tell you these two facts. Dutch got in trouble this morning before church because he sat on his sister (while he was naked) and farted on her. He also got in major trouble last week for licking the seat of his underwear to get a laugh out of his siblings. This resulted in a mouthful of Dawn and a memory that hopefully lasts long enough to prevent e-coli.
Dutch is a wild child. He can make anyone laugh, from your 92 year old grandmother to you 6 month old baby. He is defiantly a Duncan man. His inhibitions are lower than normal, and he is always on a mission to make someone smile.
birth 1st prank
The day before his actual birth, I sat up in bed that morning and felt a GUSH. I was a third time momma, and an old veteran at the “birthing process” (this is a joke). Well, I knew my water had broken. My water broke with #1 and #2 before my labor began, so this was probably the case with #3 too. (I assumed.)
Strolling peacefully through the house, I gathered my things. Then we called Denver’s sister Natalie to come over and watch the kids while I went and brought forth new life. I was smiling and laughing, and if I remember correctly, I even took a shower and shaved my legs.
We bid farewell as we mosied to the hospital.
I arrived at the desk while Denver parked the car. I kindly told the nurse that I was “in labor” and that my water had just broke. Looking over the rim of her glasses, she gave me a good one-two and told me to take my things to a holding room down the hall.
Meanwhile Denver had joined me and we were having a nice quiet morning chat under the fluorescent glow of the hospital light.
In walks the resident OB. (Who turned out to be a MOM of one of Daxx and Zadie’s friends… oh, irony) She did the “litmus” test on me to check for amniotic fluid. She left the room and we waited.
We laughed, we joked, we passed the time.
Then, the doctor walks back in.
“Ma’am, I am afraid you pee’d the bed this morning. The fluid you felt was just urine, not amniotic fluid. When you sat up in bed, the baby must have shifted and pushed out a good amount of pee.”
Suddenly, I was shrinking. I could feel myself getting smaller and smaller as the words flowed from her mouth. I wanted to laugh, but I also wanted to cry. Really, I just want this baby OUT. I knew what “my water breaking” felt like, and this had to be it. But, no. It wasn’t. It was a huge PRANK by my unborn baby. He duped me before he was even born. Touche.
I gathered my things, called off the family who was herding their way to the hospital, and went back home to wash my sheets and eat more icecream and pickles.
My pride was so shot. Not only did I feel miserable having a 9 month baby inside of me, I just PEEEEED myself and didn’t know. 🙁
Life went on.
The next morning, at the EXACT SAME TIME… no kidding. I called Natalie and told her that this was NO-JOKE and the baby was coming asap. I had labored for a good 2-3 hours in bed before the pain became too unbearable.
She raced over, we sped to the hospital and in less than an hour my baby was born, and the kind resident OB who told me I peed my pants was there catching the baby.
(It was the next month that I ran into her at the “open house” and realized that our kids went to school together! yay!!!)
My little prankster. Then and now.
Babies no more
Dutch is approaching 5. My baby is becoming a boy. The chapter of high chairs and strollers and baby vomit has come to a close for me. I have to admit that it is a bitter sweet feeling. The little years were a bit dark. I don’t thrive to the soundtrack of crying and screaming, and there was a lot of that. Today seems easier. The parenting game has shifted from physical to mental.
Today it’s my heart carries most of my mothering burden, not my body. I think this is a shift in power that will always be. While my dark eyes are from aging and not sleep deprivation these days, my mind and my spirit carry a weight I did not know of 5 years ago.
The easiest part of parenting is birthing your babies. The hard part is on this side of the womb, thus reminding me of why I need Jesus. I can’t carry the burden of these three precious souls alone. I must trust HIM to carry me through the moments where I fail.
New mommas, relish in the little life you have been entrusted with. They come out of your body a tiny person, with a bend all their own. Watch them and be vigilant to always celebrate their uniqueness, for this is to aid their ultimate purpose.
Who knows, I am confident my little Dutch will use this humor for good someday!
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