.... it was a balmy, easy Saturday spent waiting for a baby to arrive. I knew exactly when I became pregnant, but no one could be precise to that same degree of certitude when it came to the number of days it took to grow a fully formed human..... so we waited.....
... and when we got tired of waiting we drove west on Wrightwood, the bumpiest, most pot-holed street in town. TBG was determined to shake this baby loose....
... and when that didn't work we tried to scare him out with a hot dog covered in hot peppers.... which did seem to have an effect on him. I doubled over in the parking lot, and, no, I was not trying to tie my shoes. I hadn't done that in months. Real contractions were certainly different from the practice contractions, Braxton-Hicks.
Time stood still.
And then, it started up again....
... the breeze turning into a wind into a force field, sending Lake Michigan across eight lanes of Lake Shore Drive...
... Zanner coming over for dinner and the rain pelting the windows and the baby making himself known more and more frequently... so we sent her home and I took a nice long shower.... sitting on the shower bench when necessary, admiring my painted toenails as I realized that, in fact, I could neither walk, talk, nor make a joke.
31 years ago I was having a baby.
Today, that baby calls to reassure me that everything is all right .... even if he just wonders if I might be feeling blue.
That baby promised to carry me out if I failed on my hike, came home after I was perforated to lift me and move me, hefts packing boxes of paperbacks to the tippy top of the closet, and leaves arrows pointing to that which is hidden behind.... because he knew that it makes me smile.
I'm not going to focus on the next eighteen hours.... though they were filled with uproarious laughter in addition to all that other stuff.... because it all became unimportant at 12:16.
Happy Birthday, Big Cuter. It's been a pleasure.
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