thomas is turning 18

On Friday, October 27th, 1989, I went in to see my OB-GYN (I’d been seeing him twice a week for two weeks at that point) and he hinted that I would have a baby before the weekend was out. (I always got the first appointment of the day (8:15) so I could go in and come right back out.) Of course later that day, it was apparent I was in early labor when I left his office. :warped: I spent the day pacing around Debbie’s house uncomfortable, without an appetite. By the time Debbie came home a little after four, I was very obviously in labor. Debbie wanted to take me on to the hospital, but I just wasn’t ready yet; I didn’t think it was necessary.

So, David came by after work, picked me up, and we went home. By 9:30, I was in bed and miserable. I called Sherry, and she said it was time to go. So we went. David was hungry, and I’d made up my mind I was hungry by then, so we ordered Dominoes, which was delivered right to my labor room. Bill (my doctor) laughed and gave me “a look” (because I knew better than eat anything more than ice chips during labor), shook his head, and left the room. Somewhere and somehow along the way, all the phone calls were made to all the appropriate people. Kathy and Ralph drove down; Mommy waited at home. David went to sleep on the floor in the corner, and a nurse covered him up in a blanket. lol

Things progressed and by midnight, Sherry was convinced I needed an epidural instead of me laying there being brave and trying to do it all on my own. The nurse was told, the anesthetist was called, and my back was poked with a very large, very sharp needle. The epidural started wearing off around 3, and we were all hoping, “Baby any time now!” But baby was stubborn from conception forward and was having nothing to do with this delivery. :barf:

But then things progressed further as they always do, and at 5:42am, Saturday, October 28th, 1989, Thomas Raymond came into this world. And didn’t cry. Pissed me off and scared me to death. Bill laughed. Thomas was born sucking his thumb. And I’m all, “Well, make him cry. I want to hear my baby cry!” :lmao:

This rotten guy, whom I :heart: to pieces, whom I almost got to :heart: with all my kidney, turns the ripe old age of 18 this Sunday. Gods forbid. :wah: 😀 :wah: 😀

:help:

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Author: Mari Adkins

Appalachian gothic fiction writer - my works reflect a love of literature flavored by the darkness and magic residing in these ancient mountains. In my spare time, I'm a Simmer, I tumbl, I journal, but I always have a very strange sense of humor. I have lived away from the mountains and lived deep in the mountains. I currently live in Central Kentucky with my lifepartner and his cat. The mountains, their culture, their superstitions, their particular magics, will always be in my blood.