Today is a good day. Today I went for my annual "girl doctor" checkup, and while waiting alone in a robe, bare feet dangling off the bed in the examination room, I could hear the midwife in the next room talking to the patient.
"There's the heartbeat," I heard her say, her voice muffled through the wall.
And there it was, clear as day, the rapid heartbeat of a tiny baby in his mother's tummy. What a beautiful sound.
The door opened. The doctor who delivered Sean and Nolan came in to see me. "I know you're seeing someone else today, but when I saw your name on the chart I had to come in here. How are you?" he said breathlessly. I hugged and kissed him. Gosh, he's cute. Heide and I have had many conversations about our cute Ob-Gyns. I make no apologies for loving this guy. He rescued Sean (and me) from what could have been a disasterous situation, and he delivered both Sean and Nolan safely.
He congratulated me on my engagement. "So, more kids planned or what?" he asked.
I hemmed and hawwed, unsure. I'm already 35, I whined. I wasn't sure if I wanted a third c-seciton either.
He waved it off. "You're healthy, and 35 is young around here. You'll be fine for a third C. Go for it."
"Easy for you to say," I kidded him. "Your wife was the one who gave birth to your four kids."
"That's true," he smiled. "But you can do it. You're healthier than half of the people I see walk in here. So you can do it--if you want to."
Well, maybe. Not just yet, though.
Ah, June. Every summer I get sentimental about my very first memory of being three years old in my grandmother's back yard, holding a sparkler at a huge family party for the country's bicentennial. There were always tons of people around. Being born to a teenage mom in a house full of her younger siblings, I was raised by wolves on rock and roll. I wouldn't trade my experience for anything, no matter how rough around the edges it was.
I guess the best things in life aren't always planned, right? ;o)
Who raised me? These people: