And I couldn't be happier about that.
One year ago, Steven got into a little bit of a rush and decided to try to come meet us a little too early. We went to the hospital, and spent a long night (and day? and maybe another night? It all runs together and I don't remember it very well) thinking we'd be greeting some very premature babies soon.
Fortunately, at the very last minute, after I'd been prepped for a C section (epidural and everything!)... it stopped. All of the frantic activity slowed down, the medicines they were giving me took effect, and labor stopped. I was taken to a room I'd call my home for the next 7 weeks (and we did manage to make it pretty homey in all that time - it took us several cart-trips to get all my stuff out to the car when I finally left), and we waited.
There were a couple of other scares during that time, and a lot of "if *this* happens, it'll be bad and we'll have to go to surgery," and "ok, *this* happened, but we'll wait and see if *that* happens," and "well, *that* happened, but we're going to watch for *the other thing*." But February 19th was the admission date on my hospital bracelet, and is the day I'll always remember as the Unbirthday.
So today, we took cookies to all the doctors and nurses who helped us that day, and I wish I had time to bake enough cookies for all the family and friends who camped out in the waiting room that night - I may or may not have gotten to see you, but I knew you were there and I'll always appreciate it and love you for it.
|So have a virtual box of cookies on me.|
Do a little something to celebrate YOUR unbirthday today. Unless you're my grandma, and it's your actual birthday, in which case, celebrate that too!