Monday, April 1, 2013

In the Beginning


I knew all along I had to have a Caesarian section when I was pregnant.  It seems my lazy daughter decided that she was going to sit upright with her foot in my groin for 9 solid months.  I fixed her though; I rested my martini on her head. 

My doctor, a lovely Pilipino woman with a speech impediment, told me countless times that I could not schedule my C-section before my due date.  So imagine my surprise when she called me eight days before my scheduled date to tell me she was going on vacation and did I want to have my baby that day.  It seems that in matters of vacation planning, medical science could be  trumped by reservations at a dude ranch. 

So I agreed to have my baby that day.  Right after I watched General Hospital.

My daughter was born at 7:19 and I can recall waking up from the anesthesia finding myself on a gurney behind the nurse’s station.  There were pizza boxes scattered around and my then husband was drinking Mountain Dew out of a cup that said SPECIMEN on the side.  I thought to myself ‘this is hell.’  I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

It’s been a wild ride ever since.


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