(Included here for those of you who don't have Facebook...yet.)
Not long after Brad and I were married in November of 1998, we began discussing the possibility of having a baby. More accurately, I began begging non-stop until he gave in. (o: Nine months after our wedding, and after what felt like a lifetime of disappointing months, I was expecting. Brad decided early on that he did not want to know the sex of our baby. I, of course, did... So, on the day of our ultrasound, we tried to find out if we would be bringing home a boy or a girl. To this day, I believe that the ultrasound technician chose not to tell us because she knew that Brad wanted to be surprised. If I could track her down, I would thank her for that. (o: By late April, the nursery was decorated in a neutral theme and I was more than ready to not be pregnant anymore. The nearly 70 pounds I had gained during my pregnancy was making it difficult to do most anything and I was miserable. At my final Dr.'s appointment, my OB agreed to schedule my induction for May 4th. My OB came in that morning a little after 8:00 a.m. and broke my water. By 8:45, I was in very heavy labor, and I was begging (ok, screaming) for an epidural. The anesthesiologist came in to administer my epidural, but it was too late. The baby was crowning as I sat on the edge of my hospital bed. After a few chaotic and terrifying minutes, my OB came in and delivered our baby at 10:11 a.m. And, then, I heard my very favorite phrase... "It's A Girl." Because we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl, I hadn't told anyone that I desperately wanted a daughter. I had tried to tell myself that I would be just as happy with a son, but the truth is that I couldn't imagine myself as a mother to a boy. My God does not make mistakes. My precious, oldest daughter is the sweetest gift to our family and I can't imagine my life without her. Happy Birthday, my sweet girl. I love you...
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