Happy Birthday, Aimee!

On Sunday, Aimee Perrine Meester turned 8. Eight! I can't believe it's been that long already. Now I'm going to borrow liberally from Courtney and share our own birth story on this occasion.

I discovered I was pregnant just about four months after Dave and I were married. After our whirlwind romance, my mom was a little worried that a pregnancy so soon after the wedding was too much too fast, but I wasn't concerned. Perhaps if it were my own daughter I very well might think differently, but things worked out, and anyway, I've always had very strong opinions - not shared by everyone in my family, or, for that matter, by many other people at all - about marriage and children. I had one of those typically naive first pregnancies, in which I read What to Expect When You're Expecting and believed it as well everything the doctors told me, all of which made for a rather bewildering and stressful combination - in hindsight, anyway. I believed at the time that I suffered from a fair amount of morning sickness and gained all the weight I could possibly have gained (a whopping 22 pounds). My due date was June 12, and as it approached I worried what would happen if that day came and went with no baby, but it turned out I didn't need to worry on that score. On the evening of June 7th, I began to have a series of regular contractions that seemed to indicate (according to the book!) that I might be in labor. I wasn't sure if I should go to the hospital or not and spent all evening worrying about it. By around 11pm, Dave suggested we just go and see what was what, because he knew we wouldn't be getting any sleep anyway, so we drove over to Greenville Memorial and were escorted to a triage area of OB. The nurse who checked me said I was 1cm but having regular contractions, and she concluded her examination by thoughtfully remarking that I certainly had small pelvis and might have a difficult time during delivery. She suggested that I stay around for a couple of hours and see if anything happened - a sure-fire way to stall a first labor! I was nervous and stressed, but after a little while another nurse suggested I stay overnight. They gave me some medication to help me sleep, which only made me groggy and restless all night, and by the morning, predictably, I hadn't progressed sufficiently, so they sent me home, although a kind nurse did say she believed I would be back very soon. She recommended I go home and get some rest, which of course I didn't do. I went home and had an unhappy breakfast and fretted some more, before more intense contractions suggested I visit the doctor's office for another look at things. The doctor gave me the good news that I was truly in labor at this point, so we drove back to the hospital, called everyone in the family -who all began the trek to Greenville - and awaited delivery. I weathered a few relatively hard contractions before happily agreeing to some medication, which "took the edge off," as they say, but really just made me feel very out of it. A short while later, I agreed to the epidural, and as soon as it took effect, I drifted off into a long and much-needed nap. When I woke up, it was early in the evening, and I chatted with everyone in the room for awhile before observing calmly to my mom that I felt "some pressure." The nurse came in and checked me, discovering that I was complete and ready to push - cue the bright lights, rolling table, blue sheets, etc. The rest that followed was very dream-like, but I do remember pushing briefly, the doctor telling me casually that she was "just going to make a little cut," and Aimee emerging all at once, at just a little after 7:30. Of course there were raptures of joy at seeing my first baby, so small (6lbs. 10 oz.) so beautiful and - it was Aimee after all - perfect! She was perfectly clean, had a perfectly round head, and did everything a newborn baby ought to do. :-) Unfortunately, all the drugs swirling around in my system left me feeling somewhat disconnected from the whole experience - or so I learned later. Over the my next three births, I learned much more about birth, in fact, causing me to regret things like that "little cut," as well as the fact that since Aimee was my smallest baby by at least a pound and a half, I'll probably never again have the opportunity to fully experience delivering a six-pounder, rather than those agonizing eight pound-plus boys! But in spite of the fact that I would have done things differently had I known better, I still cherish dearly the memory of my first birth, that of my beautiful daughter, who taught me how to be a mother.. and who is teaching me still.

To celebrate her birthday this year, we had a party on Sunday, followed by a sleepover with any girls who wanted to stay. I am not a great party-goer, and not any better a party-giver, but my mom had come for the weekend and so was enormously helpful in keeping things going. We had ten girls, not counting Aimee, and some of their parents, and things were crowded and noisy, but I think the girls had a good time. Aimee behaved as well as any parent could wish for during present-opening, opening each card before each gift, then thanking the gift-giver with a hug before proceeding to the next gift. After the last present, she announced she wanted to make a speech, then stood on the couch and thanked everyone once more. Priceless!

Six girls stayed for the sleepover - a rather ambitious endeavor on our part, but it turned out well. :-) I didn't anticipate, however, that it would take me all week to recover and put the house back in order! It was worth it...although maybe next year we'll do something on a slightly smaller scale.