We laughed hearing the due date –

Our Baby was due on Christmas Day!

The Christmas season has always been my favorite time of the year, and Christmas Day has always been my favorite day of the year. To have a Baby born on this day would be just immeasurable Joy, but really…how many babies are actually born on their due dates and how many of those babies are born on Christmas Day??? I knew the chances weren’t good,

But still… a Christmas Baby!

Now, that really would be a Blessing!!

Christmas morning, I was up before dawn. We had been hit by some sort of awful bug that week, and even my husband and I had been running high fevers and feeling miserable. Luckily, my fever had broken Christmas Eve, so I was feeling only a bit under the weather. My husband, on the other hand was still miserable, and at some point during the middle of the night, he moved himself to the couch to try to sleep. I knew, in addition to not feeling well, he hadn’t slept well either, so it was with some trepidation that I thought of waking him up with the news.

“I think it’s time.”

Telling people you THINK it’s time on a regular day is one thing. Tearing people away from family and celebrations, gift giving and eggnog (especially when they are sick!) is something else entirely, and I sure didn’t want to cry wolf on this special, Glorious day, but as the sun turned the cold winter skies to grey, my pain became more intense.

I took a long hot shower.

Maybe the warm, soothing blasts would ease the cramping.

But the cramping didn’t ease.

I turned on the television and put on some music, soft but upbeat tunes.

Maybe I could work off the pain through exercise. Braxton-Hicks contractions fade with exercise.

But real contractions intensify, and finally I couldn’t wait any longer.

I went and shook my sleeping husband.

“Honey,” I whispered.

“Don’t say this is it,” he mumbled back.

I cringed, “I’m sorry, but think it’s time.”

I called my mom. “Mom, I think it’s time, but it might not be, so don’t rush. Take your time. It’s probably a false alarm. Who has a Baby on Christmas anyway?”

I remember the conversation, and yet, by the time my mother, smiling and happy, full of Christmas cheer and the exciting prospect of meeting her new grandchild by the day’s end, walked in the door, I was seriously considering causing bodily harm to her for doing exactly what I’d told her to, “Take her time.”

My brows were knotted. My expression deadly as she walked in that door, “Where were you???” I asked between contractions. She innocently replied with logic and truth, “You said take your time. I let your brothers open their gifts and…”

I think my expression stopped her, or maybe it was just the next wave of pain blocked her out. I do remember her surprised look as she questioned how quickly the contractions were coming.

Sometime during all of this, Troy had woken up and strolled out to oooh and aaaah over the lit up tree and presents. I handed him a package when really he wanted to delight in the tree and the colorful lights and the delicious piney smell of Christmas.

“Open it,” I’m sure I demanded.

And he did, “Oooohh blocks PLAY!”

This happily grinning toddler wanted to play with his new blocks! Why would he want to do that?? Didn’t he see I didn’t have time to play with blocks (Little did I know then, the demands on my time would get exponentially worse over the next year or twenty).

“We have no time for blocks! Open the next one.”

And so it went. This little child wanting to play with his blocks, his trucks, his whatevers, and the adults rushing him through his gifts.

I’m guessing this day is part of what led to his wanting to play more with the box than the toy in his later years!

Finally, it really was time. I couldn’t wait a second longer.

Please join me for Part II later this week.

God Bless…