But we kept it a secret until AFTER our journey around Lake Superior on the Harley.
From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I secretly hoped and wished and prayed for a little girl. After all, a big brother NEEDS a little sister. So, when the time came for us to find out the gender of our little one, I could hardly believe it when the technician gave us the news: IT'S A GIRL. Really? I had several ultrasounds throughout my pregnancy, and each time I would ask the technician to MAKE SURE IT'S STILL A GIRL. I just could not believe it!
After a couple of false alarms, and walking around three centimeters dilated for weeks, we decided to induce, a day after my due date, on April 25, 2005. We got to the hospital and settled ourselves in. I was hooked up to the Pitocin, which brings on the contractions, and after a while the doctor came in to break my water. Shortly afterwards, my pain intensified and I asked for the epidural. At that time I was 4 centimeters dilated.
This all sounds pretty textbook, doesn't it? Well, let's make it interesting, shall we?
As it happened, when it came time for me to be moved to my actual delivery room, all of the rooms on the regular Labor and Delivery Floor were occupied. Turns out, there was NOBODY on the High Risk Floor. ENTER ME. They put me in a HUGE room, much different from Owen's birth. The hospital has a two visitor limit for the actual delivery, and I had planned on having Jason (of course) and my sister, Melissa, there to assist me during delivery. I also told my mom and Jason's mom that they could stay in the room, QUIETLY, as long as the nurses would let them. And maybe, JUST MAYBE, if they were quiet enough, and out of the way enough, they might be able to stay for the birth.
I got my epidural, and quickly started feeling pressure. I asked the nurse to check me and I was at seven centimeters. I told her she should call the doctor because things happened VERY quickly with Owen. She looked at me like I was stupid, which made me want to get up and claw her eyes out. Five minutes later, I asked her to check me again. Ten centimeters. TEN. And then I see the "oh, shit" look in her eyes as she tells me NOT to push and my doc will be there SOON.
Ummmm, did I mention that no other mamas came to deliver babies on my floor that day? That made MY room the place to be. As I sat and breathed, and cursed, and tried not to push through the contractions, I watched the room fill up. My GIGANTIC room FILL. UP.
At the very last second, my doc came streaking into the room, just like in a movie-and JUST like in Owen's birth-in time to literally CATCH my baby. So, with Jason holding a leg, Melissa holding a leg, my mom and mother-in-law holding each other in the corner, and FORTY innocent nurses and doctors standing by, our GIRL, Emerson K Martin, made her appearance. She weighed nine pounds two ounces and had head full of BLACK hair. My mom said if she hadn't seen her come out of me, she would have never believed she was mine!
We had our girl.
And Owen had a little sister. I never dreamed they would be so close, but they are. Emerson and Owen were BEST FRIENDS, right from the beginning.
Someone to share his basket with:
Someone to make him happy:
Someone to give hugs to:
A crib to play in:
Someone to share snacks with before bed:
He has a cheerleader to root for him:
He has a BEST FRIEND:
I've told you before that Emerson is smart. She's not just smart; she knows she's smart. She helps Owen with his homework. She reads me stories, and when she gets tired of reading me stories, she makes up her OWN stories to tell me. She asks questions I didn't think I'd have to answer any time in this DECADE. Little Miss Smarty Pants can even do her own makeup in the car, without a mirror, with MARKERS.
Yes, Owen may be her best friend, but she's got a soft spot in her heart for her other brother, too. Greyson may be feisty and wild, but when he's in the mood to give you some love, you sure do feel special. Emerson takes it when she can get it.
And although she doesn't quite understand how the baby gets IN the belly, she is fully aware that there are TWO ways for that baby to come out. You can stop by our house anytime for a ROUSING game of "babies-in-the-belly", the game where you never know if you'll be pushing your baby out, or if she'll need to use her SAW to get that baby out. I try to tell myself that SOMEDAY all of this practice labor and birthing will help her out.
I know, without a doubt, that she will make a great mother. She shows me everyday how tender and loving she can be with her baby sister. Em and Alayna are going to be a force to be reckoned with in the VERY near future, I'm sure of it.
Here's a look back at her SIX YEARS of birthdays:
AGE 1
AGE 2
AGE 3
AGE 4
AGE 5
AGE 6
It's hard to remember life without Em, and these past six years have flown by. If anyone out there knows how to slow the time down, I'd pay any price to keep my girl little. Don't grow up too fast, my sweet Emerson.
