Happy 14th birthday Ariana Corrin !

June 5th, 1995. Ogden, Ut.
It was a cold and blizzardy day. No, really. It was.
After 9 months of waddling around wearing Dave's clothes, it was time.
About 1pm I started having serious contractions.
Not like the Braxton-Hicks I had been having for days.
Luckily my mommy and daddy got there just in time.
Or they would have missed all the fun.
We called Dave at work to tell him to get his butt home.
We all go to the hospital. I'm trying to breath.
My personal delivery room was wonderful. It was like a bedroom.
Decorated all homey and comforting. Even a place for Dave to sleep.
I was planning on having her natural.
I took no prenatal classes nor did I watch and instructional videos on what to do.
I didn't need to. Women do this naturally every day.
Have been since the beginning of time. I can too, right?
WRONG. What the hell was I thinking?
I took the jacuzzi bath. I walked as advised hoping to ease the pain.
3 major contractions later and I'm BEGGING for an epidural.
What a wuss.
The lady in the room right next to me was dying. A slow, excruciating, tortured death.
I was pretty sure of it. Apparently she got there too late for the epidural.
Lucky me. I got there just in time.
I remember the look on Dave's face when the Anesthesiologist pulled out the needle
to shove into my spine. He said to me "Oh boy. Be glad you can't see this needle".
Contraction. Needle. Screaming. And then everything in the world was right again.
They had to break my water.
The nurse reached for the overhead mirror and asked if I wanted to watch.
I declined. I'm pretty sure I said something smart-ass about it too.
I remember making jokes to the nurses in between them telling me when I was having contractions and when to push.
I thought I was so funny. I usually do.
I couldn't feel a thing. BEST TRIP EVER.
My mom and dad waited right outside my room. They could hear everything.
I could hear them talking. My dad said something to my mom like
"I don't remember labor being anything like this". I laughed and laughed.
I was thankful for the advancements in medicine.
Dave was great. Feeding me ice chips. Stroking my hair.
Pretty soon the doctor told me she was crowning.
Dave looked down and said "SHE'S GOT HAIR!"
I'm still not sure why that was important at the time. Or why he was suprised.
Then she got stuck. I couldn't push any more. I was exhausted.
It had been something like 10 hours from the time we got to the hospital until delivery.
I hadn't eaten. I was starving and dehydrated.
They had to suction her out.
If that didn't work they would have had to do an emergency C-section.
WHAT? CUT ME OPEN? That wasn't happening.
The doctor suctioned while I pushed my innerds out with every last ounce of my being.
Then I heard a cry. And I cried. Dave cried. We all freaking cried.
Even with her cone shaped, suctioned out head they tried to conceal under the knit cap..
She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in this world.
She still is. And always will be.
The day we brought her home it snowed. My father was in shock. Snow in June.
I love you Nana. Thanks for being so wonderful.
And happy birthday. Now stop growing up. Seriously. Stop.

SCREW IT ALL!

That's all for now.

OUT!

I MISS MY MOMMY!!!

This Sunday is my mom's 75th birthday. It also falls on Mother's day as it does many years. Lucky for me I get to combine shopping and shipping. She lives in Northern California and I certainly do not see her enough. Every year is a challenge to figure out what to get her. She has pretty much everything she needs. I can't do gift cards. Not for her. It just doesn't feel right.
This year I opted for a gift basket from Cox Honeyland. It was a nice variety of some Cache Valley goodies. I know what you are thinking. "WTH? IT'S HER 75TH BIRTHDAY AND THAT'S THE BEST YOU CAN COME UP WITH??" I confess, I'm a TERRIBLE daughter. I didn't even realize it was her 75th birthday until yesterday. When she told me. My mom will probably never read this. Although we gave her a laptop last year, I'm positive it's sitting somewhere in her house collecting dust. She's afraid of the internet. It's the devil. I still feel the need to post my deepest gratitude for her. I was a terrible teenager and I'm surprised she even survived me. Since I came late in her life (an oops there's a hole in the condom late) she got the pleasure to have a rebellious teenage girl from hell whilst moving, quitting smoking, going through menopause and a mid-life crisis. She is definitely the strongest woman I know.
Before she met my dad she was married to an abusive alcoholic. She courageously left him to become a single mom of 3. She was self employed seamstress so she did not have a kush sit down job. She literally worked her fingers to the bone. She stood for long hours every day. She bought her first house on her own with cash. She did whatever possible to make sure her kids were taken care of. She went without so her kids didn't. She suffered. She earned every bit of everything she's ever had. She is one tough broad. I (like many) never truly appreciated my mother until I had my own kids. I wish I lived closer to her. Things you don't think about when taking off on a whim and moving 2 states away. I wish my kids knew her better. I wish I could sit and have coffee with her. Go to lunch and listen to her stories. Bowl once a week with her. Go for a walk together. ANYTHING to spend more precious time with her.
I hope all you moms out there a very happy Mother's Day and hopefully your children will appreciate you for everything you do for them. And if your mom is still alive make sure to treasure her while you can. We will never have another! They do so very much for us.