This time 26 years ago I was preparing for the birth of my youngest daughter (my second child). After I decided I was in labor, I spent the day doing the grocery shopping, housework, and picking up pecans out of the yard while waiting for the pains to be closer before leaving to go to the hospital. Even after all that activity they had to use "the drip" to finally bring her on. (let me tell you folks, that's some BAD stuff!) It also helped that I climbed 2 flights of stairs at the hospital because I refused to get into that rickety, old elevator they had.
I was dopey but alert enough when Jami came into the world screaming her head off but I guess I'd have been grumpy too after being in such a warm, secure place for all those months and suddenly be pushed into a bright, cold place with a bunch of strangers staring at me.
Hey,,, wait a minute. I WAS grumpy too. I'd given birth to my 9lbs, 2ozs of joy in a bright, cold place in front of a bunch of strangers.
As soon as they took me back to my room I had them bring Jami to me so I could check to make sure she had all her fingers and toes and when they took her back to the nursery I got up and gathered my shampoo and soap and limped to the shower. Giving birth is a nasty, sweaty job. I also helped the lady sharing the room, who had given birth earlier in the day, to get out of bed so she could have a shower too.
Charlotte and I became good friends after that. We were sharing a private room because it seemed that everyone had decided to have babies around the same time we did and all the beds were full. It was a very tiny private room with only a chair's width between our beds so for those 3 days we had a very close relationship.
Jami was a beautiful child with a head full of black hair and a complexion that had me confusing her with the little Mexican baby in the nursery. I soon learned to read the little cards on the bassinetts so I wouldn't take the wrong child out of there.
Happy Birthday Jami!!