Ten years ago I was pregnant. The fun and excitement of Christmas was over and we were enjoying the peace and quiet of the days that follow. Our baby was due during the first week of the new year and we were mostly ready.

I’d taken a walk with my mom that afternoon. It was a crisp, clear day in a Maryland suburb of DC. The baby felt really low. Really low.

I decided that it was as good a day as any to wash the cover on the infant car seat. I threw it in the washing machine with some other items. It was done drying by the time Phil got home so I had him install the car seat into the car. Just so we’d be ready.

In the meantime I sat on the floor, folding the rest of the laundry. My mom was in the kitchen with Boo. I felt two pops. My water broke!

We didn’t leave for the hospital for another hour. During the short ride to Andrews AFB, my contractions grew stronger. By the time we arrived it was clear that I was definitely in labor, but they put me in the labor and delivery triage room where I continued to labor.

I will spare you the details of the complete chaos and buffoonery that followed when they finally realized that not only was I really in labor, but that the baby was coming RIGHT NOW!

I did make it to the delivery room just fine before I pushed twice (please don’t hate me) and our little Pumpkin Girl was born.

All 5 pounds, 12 ounces of her. Thick black hair and big brown eyes. Sugar and spice and everything nice.

Happy Birthday, Pumpkin Girl! You bless us every day with your beautiful smile, you dancing feet and your quiet, but funny sense of humor. You are a princess among the princes, the crown jewel of our little kingdom. Proof that every good and perfect gift comes from above.

More Mac and Cheese, please!


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