My friends were expecting their first baby and asked me to be present to video tape and take pictures. I was so excited when "the call" came (after a couple of false alarms), and I rushed to the hospital ready to document.
Before we got to that point, however, we had several hours of labor to get through. During that time, I learned how to count through contractions, administer ice chips without dropping any down the front of the fabulous gown, have my hand squeezed until circulation almost never returned, and PROMISE that this would be the very last push...knowing full well there might be twelve more to go. (Finally got caught on that one. Women in labor are very intuitive.)
I arrived at the hospital around 9:00 a.m. on July 31, and little Carol arrived at 2:54 a.m. on August 1. I had to drive home (45 minutes) and get up at 6:00 for a full day of work. Needless to say, I think at this time eight years ago, I was sacked out on a couch catching up on lost sleep.
In later years, I attended the births of her little sister and little brother, but there was something so very extra special about hers. She was the only one whose gender they chose not to learn ahead of time, and that made the entire thing extra exciting. Definitely sold me on that method. I was crying so hard when she finally arrived that I could barely see to tape!
This is one of only three pictures I have with baby Carol. We only got to keep her here with us for six months - another one of those very difficult moments of life that sent me questioning God and finding Him to be so faithful to comfort His hurting children.I wondered today what we would be doing this weekend to celebrate an eight year old's birthday. I felt I needed to do something to honor her on this day. I've been flipping through the scrapbook, remembering her cute facial expressions and sweet smile...and the miracle of her birth...one of the most significant moments of my life.
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