Happy Birthday, MK!
Saturday we had a fun, low key day celebrating MK's 12th birthday. She requested this old favorite for her treat. The original is huge - two 9 inch cake circles with a nice, generous layer of cookies and cream ice cream in the middle, with ganache on top. I decided to make mini-versions to prevent waste and overall overindulgence.
Overnight, it rained and rained. We are still not used to this. Most of Texas has been in severe drought for years, and rain is always noticed and very special. I'm awake more than normal these nights of late - you know, the changing pregnant body and the weird noises new houses can make - that kind of thing.
Anyway, the rain. It's mesmerizing. I loved hearing it in the night. It kept on into the morning and half the day. And we stayed home. Our only planned outing had been to walk to the farmer's market and we ditched that idea, of course.
It was a blessing: the quiet, soothing rain; the green of our new surroundings; a slow, slow morning; and a happy event to observe.
Something occurred to me in one of the quiet moments yesterday. I don't know how I forgot this two years ago, except maybe that the scariness of our situation blotted out details from the past. I realized that in MK's birth, I had a mini-version of the craziness that happened with Baby H's pregnancy and arrival.
When I was about 5 days past due with MK, my water broke. I had one big contraction, then no more. But we went to the hospital on the advice of my doctor. There, they performed the three tests that are usually (to my knowledge) done to confirm rupture of membranes. None of these "proved" my story, as was the case with BH's situation, ad nauseum. Eleven days it took to get confirmation in BH's case.
After a lot of discussion, the on-call OB finally said (again, deja vu, and yet I didn't recall any of this when going through the drama we faced with BH), "Get an ultrasound machine in here. Let's take a look at her fluid levels." And, voila! In both cases, the doctor immediately saw the problem, as indicated by the obvious lack of space, or fluid, around the baby.
In MK's case, there was nothing to be particularly concerned over, since she was full-term. The doctor suggested we start an induction. We asked for more time, to see if my body would go into labor. He was gracious, an answer to prayer, and gave us till the next morning. I walked and prayed and walked and hoped, but nothing. Nary a contraction.
The next morning at 7am, they hooked me up to that mean ol' pitocin. I was committed to a natural childbirth, but man, childbirth itself will do things to you, you know? And labor + pitocin? Save me. That was rough. They gave me something in my iv, to take the edge off. It did.
She was born sometime after 11am, tiny and skinny and loud and healthy. After birthing her 9 pound sister 16 months earlier, MK's little 6 pound self just slipped right out, it seemed. I was quite surprised.
And here we are, 12 years later. I praise God for every day He gives us with each of our children!
H was not shy about testing the devil's food cake batter. He let me know it was tasty.
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