He's 13

Thirteen years ago right now I was looking down into the very red face of my newborn son. I can't believe that thirteen years have passed. I can't believe that he is on the cusp of manhood. I can't believe that it's only been 13 years...
August 4, 1994, I was five days past my due date, and I had an adorable little 19 month old girl. I woke up on the fourth with a ton of things to get done. I needed to clean house and go grocery shopping, I needed to get the laundry done. So much to do.
That evening, as I sat trying to work out in my mind all that I needed to get done I went into a sort of panic. I realized that if I went into labor in the middle of the night, I needed someone to call to come watch my 19 month old baby. My One Tru Love was less than helpful. He got mad at me for panicking and left me. I was having regular yet very far apart contractions, and my instinct was telling me that our baby was coming. In his defense, he was 23 and getting ready to become the father of two.
I couldn't sleep that night in our bed. So, I slept on the couch. I woke up at 3:45 with cramps that wouldn't go away. I timed my cramps, and they were like 3 minutes apart. This was my first labor as my daughter had been delivered by planned C section. I woke up My One Tru Love, and he asked me how far apart my contractions were, I didn't want to freak him out, so I lied. I told him they were about 5 minutes apart. He told me to call his mom, then asked me to make him some coffee, because he wanted to take a shower. I did exactly as I was told, I even brought him two cups of coffee in the shower before his mom got to our house. By this time, I knew that the baby was coming and coming today.
We drove to the hospital, and he thought it would be fun to run all of the red lights on the Esplanade. We got to the hospital and my contractions weren't easing up and were getting closer and closer and closer. I couldn't walk to the Maternity ward, they were too close together.
We got set up in the room and as I laid on the bed I felt an audible pop. My water broke! We had arrived at the hospital at about 4:45 am. I was in hard labor from when my water broke until the wee boy was born at 9:20 am.
At 9 am I felt the urge to push. I was told to wait, then my baby began to decel. His heart rate was going way too low for way too long. My doctor ran in, he started talking really fast and using words like "Stat" which I knew were four letter words. I was scared. My One Tru Love was scared. I had on an oxygen mask and was rolled to my right side, then my left side, then back to my right side, all the while being prodded and poked and told not to push. I was terrified. They finally let me push, and things got worse, he called for the vaccuum extractor, I don't remember or have blocked out all the trauma to my nether regions at this point. All I remember is that my little baby's body was pulled from my body, blue. No reaction to light, no crying, the doctor turned and passed him off to the nurse, and My One Tru Love was pushed behind the bed and not allowed near our new son. Tubes were stuck down his throat and they suctioned stuff out (there was meconium in the water). I started to bleed. They took out the baby and My One Tru Love followed. They kept telling me that I had a beautiful son, and that he was doing much better now, (his first APGAR was 1, second one was 5). I had completely disassociated myself from all that was happening. I got a shot of something to stop the bleeding, the placenta wouldn't detach, and I hadn't seen my baby yet.
Finally, they laid my perfect little boy in my arms. He had all the parts he needed, 10 fingers, 10 toes, a perfect 7 lb, 11 oz, baby boy. He had a really bad bruise on his head from the extraction, but, other than that, he was doing great. He latched on and nursed like a champ. He was amazing.
Thirteen years ago right this moment (8:30pm) my husband's grandma called me to tell me congratulations, her remark when I answered the phone, "I knew E would be too tired from all of the excitement of the new baby so I didn't want to disturb him, so I called you." She was so funny. I was the one who worked so hard to have the baby, but poor E might be tired. Hmm.
T today is a healthy, vibrant, loving boy, who I really can't believe I ever held in my arms and nursed at my breast.