Micki's Birth of Emily

I'm writing this story from a long ago memory. Emily's birth is intertwined with Thanksgiving and goats. I think this is where my extreme dislike for goats really began.

I was due Nov 30, 1998. My first baby was born at 33 weeks along, so I really had no idea what to expect to be that pregnant. It was Nov 25, the day before Thanksgiving. We had plans to go to my In-Law's across town for the big day. But before that, I had a lot to do.

I took my time getting ready and getting my 20 month old ready. It took my breath away to do much of anything. I sat down on the couch and felt a pop and wet down my legs. No contractions at all, but I knew my water broke.

I called my husband and told him to meet me at the dr's office. He was attending the university and wanted to be sure this time as he couldn't miss too many classes. I called to a neighbor to watch my son for me. The neighbor asked how I was getting to the hospital. I fully intended to drive myself, thank you very much! He nixed that idea, handed me a towel and told me to get in the car.

My husband was at the dr's office (attached to the hospital) waiting for me. The dr wanted to make sure my water broke. We went to the exam room and the nurse did the test with the blue paper. It was NEGATIVE. I thought there was no way I peed myself. I was certain my water broke. The nurse felt bad and said she'd check under the microscope.

We were left alone to wait for the test results. I felt the baby move and WOOSH, I was sitting in a huge puddle of water.

The nurse returned with the bad news that my water had not broken!

I laughed and said "I'm sitting in a puddle!"

The nurse smiled and said she was pretty sure that was going to be positive. It was!

She put me in a wheel chair and I was wheeled over to the hospital. The dr examined me there and I was already 3 cm and 50 percent.

I remembered how much it hurt the first time and I asked for an epidural. The anesthesiologist arrived and began her work. She did something wrong and it sent shooting pain down my leg. I told her to stop. She told me that I must not want it badly enough. I guess not.

This was just after 1 p.m. I still wasn't feeling many contractions. The machine wasn't showing a whole lot of contractions. Husband and I played cribbage, we watched a James Bond movie.

It was just before 4 p.m. when the pain started. It was the pain I remembered from my first baby. I buzzed the nurse and said I was ready for my epidural. A different anesthesiologist arrived and instructed me to sit up. He started work and just as he started the wire into my spine, I screamed "I feel the head!"

Everyone told me not to move and not to push. That's not easy to do!

As soon as they finished the epidural,  dr arrived and I began to push. so much for the epidural. It was never turned on.

I pushed for about 20 minutes and Emily was born, weighing 7 lbs 3 oz. From the time I arrived at the hospital til she was born was about 3.5 hours!

Now, you're probably wondering where the goats come in...

Our little family was all snuggled up at the hospital together less than a day after Emily was born. The phone rang and it was my Mother-in-law. I had plans to leave the hospital that day and go to her house to enjoy a lovely Thanksgiving dinner. Plans changed with that phone call. Thanksgiving was canceled.

Canceled, not because of a burnt turkey or anything a normal family might experience, but because my sister-in-law's large dog had gotten loose, jumped in to the goat's pen and eaten them. The yard was covered with goat parts. My husband was needed to help clean up the goat remains and find some way to deal with the dog. The dog needed to be put down and there was no place open on the holiday. Everyone was so upset.

There were no congratulations on the baby. There was no fabulous Thanksgiving dinner. The meal in the hospital was terrible. I was alone all day.

Emily loves her birth story. Her siblings (three sisters and two brothers) think her story is great. They roll with laughter at the image of Grandma canceling Thanksgiving and daddy having to bury goats. The rest of the family has blocked this memory far  far away in their minds. They remember the new baby, so it all worked out for the best.