Eight years ago today, I was about to head for the hospital. Andrew was a couple weeks early, but my water broke anyway. Even though there was no labor, the OB nurse wanted me to get checked out at the hospital. So we went. I was miserable all night. AJ hadn't even dropped all the way, so they wouldn't let me out of bed to prevent the cord from prolapsing. The fetal heart monitor would move every time I did, and a nurse would come in a harrass me to find the heartbeat again. Finally, very early in the morning, the doctor approved me getting up and walking. I hadn't been back in bed an hour when the nurse came in again to harrass me, only this time she couldn't find AJ's heartbeat. Quick decisions were made, and I ended up in the OR; AJ was delivered by emergency C-section. I don't even remember much from that day--except being very irratated that I couldn't see my baby all day (they had trouble getting his temperature up, and I was chained to the stupid bed). I joke that AJ almost killed me (I was bleeding internally and he wasn't getting enough blood).
A friend and I were just musing that our kids have all come into the world in ways consistent with their personalities. Josh was slow and late and took his time, but was very little trouble. Stephen was in a hurry, but came like clockwork. AJ came dangerously and caused a lot more trouble than the others. He has been very worth all the trouble he caused then, and all he's called since then. He brings so much adventure and fun into our lives.
Tomorrow he will be eight. What happened to my baby? Where did he go?