Happy Birthday Darrius

On this day, 11 years ago, I gave birth to a wonderful, baby boy after enduring 32 hours of excruciating labor. :-)

Isn't that how all moms start their stories about the birth of their kid(s)?

When I discovered I was pregnant, I was in shock. I wasn't ready for a baby. I worked at Gold's Gym not making good money and I still lived at home with my parents. Alfred was still living at home with his parents and he had a semi-decent job. We had just gotten engaged while on vacation in the Bahamas. We hadn't even started planning the wedding! And I hated kids. I wasn't sure if I wanted to have any of my own. So imagine my surprise when out of the blue, the rabbit decides to kick the bucket. Once the shock and disbelief wore off (it took 2 positive EPT tests for me to begin to believe it), my decision was made. I was going to have a baby. No hesitation. No doubts. I just knew. I couldn't believe how right it seemed. I had taken the pregnancy test at a friend's apartment so once it was confirmed that Yes, I was pregnant, we called Alfred and told him to come over. He wanted to know what I was doing there and I told him I was hanging out. Little did he know. About 20 nerve-wracking minutes later he finally arrives. I didn't say anything. I just handed him the stick and walked out of the room. The next words I hear are "Oh sh!t". Yeah, that pretty much summed it up for me too.

Nine months (or more) later, with half of that time spent with me doubled over and vomiting into every container in sight, I go into labor. I remember that morning clearly. It was a Tuesday morning. I woke up at 6am because I had to pee. While sitting on the toilet, I felt something more than urine go into the toilet. I look down and think, "Uh oh". It was my mucus plug. I finish up and flush the toilet and go back to bed. I wasn't having contractions and I was still tired so I figured I'd get some more rest. I knew that in a little while a little person was coming into this world and I wouldn't have uninterrupted sleep for a very long time. So I might as well get as much rest as I can. Around 9am my mom calls. She got into the habit of checking in on me daily, several times a day. I could set my watch to her phone calls. I answer the phone and she asks how I'm doing. I tell her my mucus plug has come out and my labor has started. I'm saying this in a casual voice, like I'm talking about what I'm eating for breakfast. She gets hysterical/excited and asks if I had called my doctor. I told her no. What's the point? I'm barely having contractions. She yells at me (in her mom way) and tells me I need to call my Gyno right away. I give in cause I don't want my mom to come through the phone and slap the black off of me for not doing what she told me to do. I call my gyno and get a 1pm appointment. I call my mom back and she seems to be happy with that. I then call Alfred at work. He had just gotten there. I told him to take his time. I could drive myself to the doctor. He decides to leave work and go with me. By the time I get to the doctor and he examines me, I'm still having no contractions. And I only dilated 2 centimeters. My doctor tells me to go have lunch. So we do. I'm thinking it's going to be a long day. And I was right. The entire day and night passes and nothing is going on. I'm having contractions but they're sporadic and too far apart. I finally call my gyno's office at 2am and lie about my contractions. I was getting tired and fed up and I was determined to go to the hospital. We get to the hospital and the nurse examines me. I'd only dilated 3 centimeters. Are you kidding me? The hospital was about to release me when my water broke. I was so happy because I knew they had to keep me. 14 hours later, after having every drug available given to me, a high grade fever and being stuck at 5 centimeters for God knows how long, my doctor decides I need to have a c-section. It's about time! My mom almost came to blows with my doctor because she wanted to be in the operating room with me and the doctor was telling her only one person was allowed. I guess he saw that CW meant business and allowed her into the OR. I don't know how long the operation took. I just remember hearing a baby cry and looking up and seeing the doctor holding my baby boy. My first thought was, "Damn I thought he was a girl." My second thought was, "Thank God I already had a boy name picked out." My third thought, "I can't believe I'm a mother!"

Since that day my life hasn't been the same. And I owe it all to a skinny, smiley, toothy, funny, big-headed little boy named Darrius. He is a wonderful son and I look forward to seeing him grow up to be a wonderful man. He has truly been a joy in my life and I thank God everyday for him. It is true when they say you don't know real, unconditional love until you have a child. Even when he frustrates the hell out of me, he still has a strong hold on my heart. He will always be my baby, regardless of how old he is.

Happy Birthday Mr. D! I love you so much.