You've come a looonng way, Baby!

Max A. was born December 3, 2001 via emergency c-section at 5# 12oz, 19 1/2 ". He was only 8 days early, but since he was little, he was diagnosed as SGA - Small for Gestational Age.

In the two+ weeks before he arrived, I had been having regular fetal non-stress tests as a follow-up to a routine test where The Baby's heart had "de-cell'd" (deacellerated). We didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl, so he was The Baby until that moment he was pulled from my pelvis and Mr. DD announced to me, "It's a boy!"

We had false labor on 12/1 very early in the a.m., but after no progression, I was sent home empty handed. That was a Saturday. I "labored" over the rest of the weekend without sleeping, refusing to go back to the hospital looking foolish with all our bags packed only to be sent home...again. Monday a.m. I had an appt with OB for another non-stress test. As soon as they strapped me up to the monitor in the office, they instructed me to boogie over to the hospital post-haste! And so I boogied (as well as one can expect 9 mos. pregnant).

Mr. DD joined me at the hospital OB triage room where on the other side of the curtain, a expecting mother bitched to her other two children how she wished her OB would induce her so she could go have a cigarette. I demanded at that point to be moved. I was in misery, but all the labor rooms were full, unlike on the 1st where we got the cushy room. They obligingly moved me to a private triage where after hours of still no progessing, manual breaking of my water, and one very scary moment where the nurse lost X's heart beat altogether, we were whisked into surgery.

There are so many other little details to that day, but I would end up boring you all with the minor stuff. The picture above was on the day X was discharged 4 days later after struggling with jaundice and low blood sugar. He went home at only 5# 9oz. So tragically little, and with parents who hadn't a clue on what to do with a baby. The nurses had to show us how to change his diaper. I had not even bothered getting a bassinet as I thought he would be just fine in the crib... In the other room... Down the hall... Uh, I don't think so! He ended up sleeping on the changing pad on the floor next to the bed for two nites until Mr. DD and my mother came home with a suitable bassinet.

But lo! Here he is 4 years later and he still miraculously has retained all his limbs and senses in spite of our parenting skills, or lack thereof. Living proof that babies are resilient little creatures.

So yesterday we celebrated his Birthday of 4 Years with a rowdy group of 5 other children. Here he is enjoying his cake that his loving mother (that would be moi) baked and decorated for him from scratch before they annialated it.

His party was loud and chaotic, insterspersed with moments of instructions on sharing; mopping up spilled juice and frosting stained hands and faces. But you know what? I had fun and X had fun. I can't wait until next year!

Happy Birthday, Boo. All my love today and always.