Happy Birthday Hannah!

In January of 1999, I was struck with a bad case of exhaustion. I had no energy at all, and I wasn't doing anything that would account for it. I remember telling my mom about my affliction, and she asked if there was a chance I was pregnant. I acquired a pregnancy test, and sure enough, I was.

The next nine months were a roller coaster of emotions. Steven and I were excited, nervous, elated and terrified of all that parenthood would bring. An ultrasound early on determined my due date as September 16th.

On September 15th, I was at a doctor's appointment, and my doctor laid her hand on my swollen belly and made a passing comment that I was having a contraction. "A contraction? It that what it feels like?" It didn't hurt at all, but I hadn't realized that the hardening of my belly was actually a contraction. With that knowledge, I realized that I was having contractions all the time! As I walked from the doctor's office the half mile or so to the office where Steven was working I tried counting the minutes between contractions. They were coming regularly.

That evening I didn't get much sleep. The contractions were coming a few minutes apart, but they weren't painful at all, and my doctor had told me not to call until they hurt so badly that I couldn't sleep. And so I waited.

Eventually, they did become painful and we excitedly headed to the hospital. It was still the middle of the night, so we had to go in through the emergency room doors, and I think they made me sit in a wheel chair and go up to the labor and delivery room in the elevator, instead of taking the stairs. Once I got there, they checked, and then made me walk the halls for a little while.

That ended up being a long day. I remember throwing up my dinner from the night before, so my stomach was empty, and the nurses brought Steven a meal or two, but all I got was water. I got an epidural which allowed me to take a much needed nap. And finally she arrived a little after 2:00 in the afternoon, about 12 hours after the contractions had become painful.

She was beautiful. We didn't want to put her down. She received visitors - her grandparents and aunts and uncles were all anxious to see and hold her.

The drive home from the hospital a day or two later was nerve racking. Never before had we been so conscious of the precious cargo in our vehicle. We edged over every bump and gently rounded each corner, arriving home with a sigh of relief.

And now she is 15 years old. She is a mature and responsible young woman who has been begging for months for the opportunity to take driver's ed. (Teens in Colorado have to have their permit for 12 months before they can get their license, so they can take driver's ed as early as 14 1/2 years old!)

She is still beautiful, still precious, and I can't imagine our family without her!