Wednesday is the BIG day

While most of the world gets ready to celebrate this Wednesday, we will be getting ready too.  We just don’t celebrate the same thing as the rest of America does.  Some choose to celebrate Halloween.  Some do not.  We are not for trick or treating and all the scary stuff.  We do, however, celebrate with a treat, a treat we get to enjoy every single day of every year. 

The treat of having a little pumpkin born to us on Halloween 8 years ago.  Gulp.  I just typed 8 years ago.  That means our second child is soon to be 8. 

I want to journal about the joy that this little blonde pumpkin brings to us daily.  I also would like to write her birth story as well as events leading up to her birth.  Blogging has helped me to go beyond just writing a few words about a picture or event in our family scrapbooks (I have only completed 23).  I have truly been contemplating our daughter’s life and all that she is to us and all that the Lord will bring her up to be.  I am also excited about remembering those early days of her life and even days before she entered this world. 

So sit back and walk down memory lane for a few days with me as I share the story of our Pumpkin.

It all started…well, maybe I won’t be THAT detailed!

To fully appreciate where we are today I must give a little history on the beginnings of our little family.

I married sweet husband in December of 1996, took a quick low-key honeymoon to Colorado (I am still waiting for that tropical honeymoon), flew back to Dallas, spent one night saying good-bye to our families then hopped in our little Honda and drove 1,444 miles to our new humble abode (a wee little apartment) outside Washington, D.C.  The day after arriving in Montgomery County, Maryland I stepped into a new classroom (I left a PERFECTLY wonderful job back in Dallas) at 7:30am with the principal saying, “Welcome to Maryland, have a great day.”  And that was that. 

So we started our new life as Mr. and Mrs. up in a totally strange place.  It might as well have been a foreign country.  I missed Texas.  I even admitted to it.  All during my college days, I said I would leave Texas the first chance I got and live on some mountaintop with a dog named Buck. 

Apparently, I was ALL talk.  When push came to shove, I would have been a happy little bride staying put in Texas. 

We were happy little love birds so disgustingly in love trying to establish a life in a new place as a couple.  We even had a plan.  A plan for husband to finish graduate school at The George Washington University while I taught and paid the bills.  He would graduate, get a super job and I would teach another year or two before considering starting our family.  We would put my huge paycheck in savings for you know, maybe a house, a car, an exotic vacation. 

Things were going well if you forget about me being terribly homesick, miserable in my job, and then having to have surgery – surgery in which the Dr. told us that my chances of getting pregnant were slim and that after three months of healing, we might want to casually start trying.  At that point, we looked at each other and said, “Best to start considering adoption just in case. ” 

No need for that.

What that sweet man from Argentina did not know was that at that 3 month post-op visit, I was actually pregnant!  Three weeks later he was patting me on the back with a huge grin on his face saying, “Ooh! I did good job for you!”  Thank you.  My dear husband had to pick me up off the ground after the Dr. helped him back to his feet first.  The word shock would be the best word to adequately describe our feelings.

So, our first child was born 7 months later.   Born to a mom who had quit her teaching job and a dad who somehow had yet to find that perfect high paying job (but had graduated from a distinguished graduate program).  We were so much in awe over that little guy that having to move out of our apartment and into the basement of almost strangers really did not seem to bother us.  Well, not until our son was 6 months old and we were once again EXPECTING a baby.  That sweet Doctor had to tell us again, “Ooh ! I did VERY good job for you. ”  You can stop now! 

So…there we were in Maryland.  No job(s), no house, no family and two babies in about a year.  Things were not going as planned.

We were living in a 12×12 room so graciously handed to us by precious folks from our dear church (the only “home” in Maryland for us).  As my due date neared for the wee one to arrive, I became ancy and wanted to nest.  10 months in a basement with two babies was not my idea of HOME. 

Two words kept coming to mind.  Texas and move.

 My mom flew in from Texas to help with the 29 lb. lad (who learned to walk that very week) and witness the birth of our second child.  Unknown to us, Nana knew the gender of this child thanks to our friend, Anna, who worked at the sonogram office.  We were having quite the time coming up with names.  We settled on Zachary Daniel for a boy and Hallie (short “a” sound, not long) Elizabeth for a girl.  I was convinced I would have three boys – no girls.  

The due date, October 29, arrived and by 8pm I gave up hope that this little one would arrive on the actual due date.  Much too obedient!  I started working on my scrapbook.  I was determined to be caught up before giving birth to baby #2.  I worked until 10 pm but grew weary and closed my book with three pages remaining.  Oh well!  I got ready for bed and plopped my huge self onto the bed and in an instant those contractions started coming.  By 5:30 am we were heading out the door.  I bent over to put my shoes on and realized that they had stopped.  Those contractions had completely stopped!  Nothing.  Done. 

We went on with the day. The calendar now said October 30.

The husband and I had lunch at La Madeleine’s alone that day and realized that if the babe was born the next day, on Halloween, then Hallie for a girl might be a bit weird.  We agreed that the child would not be Hallie and we did not discuss other potential names.  I was having a boy. 

The husband and I had a dinner meeting at church that night.  I tried to sit and listen but just could not sit still.  Of course I am usually on the ancy side so I did not think much of leaving the meeting room and pacing the halls.  We headed home.  I felt a little weird but I had only slept a wee bit the night before so I claimed that as the cause.

Once we arrived home,  I finished up my scrapbook using the pictures from that very day.  I closed the book, looked at mom and husband, and said, ” Okay, I can have this baby now.  I am caught up.”  And I was off to bed.  Or was I?

To be continued…

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One Comment

  1. EJ
    Posted October 30, 2007 at 3:23 pm | Permalink

    This is just wonderful – thinking back to the time that you and A were newlyweds and then the parents of blessed children – you, A, and all 3 kiddos are such a blessing to me and I love you all so very much!!


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