Happy 1st Birthday, Molly

Here's the thing about this blog - it's really our family photo album. I don't scrapbook and I haven't printed a photo in years, so someday soon this little blog will be printed, bound and collecting dust on our bookshelves. So, bear with me while I reminisce about the day Molly was born.....

(Note: you may stop reading here. No one will judge you if you just skip right down to the 1st birthday photos.)

I CAN'T think of that day without smiling. Not because it was the day Molly was born, but because of HOW she was born. No wait, keep reading, this will not be graphic. Of course, I smile when I think about the day James was born, but that was after 31 hours (HOURS!) of labor including 4 hours (HOURS!) of pushing and so I smile, but I also grimace a little at the same time.

January 27, 2009 brought a big snowstorm to DC. Molly was, by then, several days overdue. James and I played in the snow and I blogged about how I had cleaned the whole house, done a bunch of laundry, played in the snow and STILL no baby. Here's the post in case you need to review: http://webcoynes.blogspot.com/2009/01/tastes-like-sugar.html. That night I had some contractions from 7-10pm and they fizzled out, but NOT BEFORE we called Kevin to come and spend the night "just in case."

Ha! Smart move! I woke up the next morning at 5am with a contraction that was like an 8 out of 10 on the pain scale. As most of you know, I had James with no drugs and so I know a little something about the pain scale. Trust me, it was an 8. The hospital always tells you to wait until the contractions are at least 5 minutes apart for over an hour before you call to see if you should come in. By 6am, I was having contractions about 3 minutes apart and had to pause repeatedly to get through a contraction while talking to the admitting person at the Andrews Air Force Base OB/GYN. Here's where it gets dicey..... BECAUSE of the snowstorm the night before, she is asking me if there's a hospital that is closer because, "it sure does sound like you're going to have this baby any minute ma'am."

Me: "Ummm, I am sure there is (pause for Mack-truck contraction), should I go there?!"

Her: "No, no, wait. A doctor just walked in and says the roads are okay, but pretty icy so be careful."

Me: (contraction) "Uh, OK." (contraction)

It is now 6:30am and because James had SUCH a long labor, we thought we'd be home for like 20 hours before we had to go to the hospital. So, Brian has nothing packed. NOTHING. He is standing in front of me as I lean on every available surface to get through a contraction saying, "do you think I should bring my black fleece or just a sweatshirt?"

Me: NO WORDS - JUST GLARING AND GROANING.

Brian: "OK then, let me just pack the car and we'll be off!"

Brian packs the car, wakes up Kevin, gets James settled, and helps me into the car. We leave the house at 7:05am.

On the way to the base, I say to Brian, "don't you think (contraction) that this is (contraction) TRANSITION?!" (transition being the most painful phase of childbirth right before you have the baby)

Again, relying on our experience with James, Brian says, "oh no, you've got a long way to go."

At the gate, the guard, watching me get through a contraction by forcefully trying to put my feet THROUGH the car floor says to Brian, "uh, Sir, is she okay?"

Brian: "Well, she's having a baby. Can we go?"

It is now 7:25am and we pull into the hospital parking lot. Brian, still thinking that I have a long way to go says, "let's park and I'll get our bags and blah blah blah."

I say, "Stop right here by the front door, please. (contraction) I'll meet you inside."

Pausing for contractions every five feet, I somehow find the elevator and Brian meets me there. This is no small feat as the Malcolm Grow Medical Center at Andrews AFB is an absolute maze of hallways and wings and like 85 elevators.

At 7:35, we are walking into the OB hall, pausing for contractions, getting a robe and gauging the state of things. We have, at this time, the clothes on our backs and Brian's cell phone. No camera, no clothes from home that I was adamant about wearing, and no soothing music. I am quickly checked and told I may start pushing. Here's where I think I need to get ready for four more hours of pushing. But one push and there she was! Time: 7:58am. Let's do the math: left the house at 7:05am and 53 minutes later, baby Molly is born. WHAT?!

So everybody is happy and Brian and I actually high-five and he says something like, "now THAT'S how you have a baby!" And then it occurs to us to ask, "oh, WHAT IS IT?!" Doctor: "oh, uh, it's a girl!"

SHEER JOY, people. Not because I wanted a girl more than a boy, but because I always thought it was a girl and everyone knows how I do like to be right. Plus, I was so confident that it was a girl that we did not show up at the hospital with a boy's name.

And so now, a year later, I see Molly and I look back on that day and I can't help but say to myself, "now THAT'S how you have a baby!"

And here she is now, a year under her belt and ready to party. I was trying to think of something fun to do with Molly on the day of her birthday and I asked myself, "what does Molly like to do best?" Well, the answer is EAT. So good friend and neighbor Pilar took us to a VERY fancy lunch at Restaurant Eve, just down the street from our house. (good friend Jen took James for a couple of hours - thanks, Jen!)

Molly & Pilar

Her first birthday cake - so cute!

Molly received rave reviews on her gold ballet slippers (I got them from a little boutique called Old Navy).

Then back home, tights off, and time to play with James' toys!

New chair from Oma & Opa.

Digging into cake #2.

This is Cool Cat, made by my friend Susannah (pictured here with her husband Keith). Cool Cat has a beret and bell bottom green pants - love it!

Tea party from Aunt Cathy

Squishy car set from Nanet. Molly insists on carrying it like a giant suitcase.

Hat from Aunt Lisa & Uncle Ernie.

Classic books from Halley

And then she hit a wall. No fussing. No crying. She just got a throw pillow and laid herself on it.

Happy birthday, sweet girl.