Birthday Girl

Wednesday is our youngest child, Macy’s birthday. She’ll be four. We already had a party –her sister Maya is only 14 months older, to the day. I’m starting to feel guilty that we aren’t really doing anything additional. Although we’ve left most of the decorations up and I’m sure we’ll get a cake or something. The question will be, will she remember she already got her present from us? It’s amazing how quickly they can forget little things like me saying “if we give you your present now, that’s it. Are you okay with that?”

Guess what. She said she was. Of course she did. She’s 3. She knew it was her very own tablet. Of course she said yes.

Truth be told, it’s very likely we’ll have a few little things for her on Wednesday just so it feels like a birthday. I like giving my kids things. Crazy, I know. Sure, I worry about raising spoiled children who don’t appreciate hard work (which is a dumb phrase anyway - I don’t appreciate it -I just know I have to do it every day or we’ll lose the house) and the value of money.

Honestly, I don’t worry about Macy so much. She’s a very sweet, appreciative kid. Those other two . . . well, let’s keep talking about Macy.

If you’ve kept up with this blog thus far, it’s not hard to use simple math and a little deductive reasoning to determine that she was what they call “a surprise.”  One that floored my wife and me. We had such a hard time even having one, that when we were fortunate enough to have two, we said we were through.

As John Lennon said, life is what happens when you’re making other plans. One winter’s eve, we were watching television after the kids were in bed, and my wife casually mentioned she’d gotten dizzy at work and almost fell down. She said she’d made a doctor’s appointment just to be safe. I asked her at the time, “you don’t think you’re pregnant . . . do you?” I should mention that a month or so before, I’d gone in for a procedure to shutter the baby-making business for good.

So of course my wife answered “no, of course not!”

Turns out, yep, of course so! Apparently the doctor said with a chuckle “hey, let’s do a pregnancy test just to rule that out.” Nope. Problem solved. Cause found. Bun placed squarely in oven.  My wife says she cried for ten minutes when she got the news – not because she didn’t want another baby – just that, we were already exhausted. We didn’t start having them until our 30’s and now we were both nearly in our 40’s. We already felt too tired for the ones we had. She called me and it was as if she was speaking in a dead or alien language. I couldn’t comprehend the word pregnant.

After doing a few laps around my office building, I called her back and said everything would be fine. We’d figure it out. We’d make room for three. After all, I told her I loved having kids (which I did and do) and would be happy to have three, four, even five if I felt we were financially sound enough for it. We weren’t of course. We’re still not. But screw it, you find a way.

Macy’s arrival was a bit turbulent. They scheduled an induction. We checked-in at the hospital early and we were there all day, and into the night. Nothing was happening. She didn’t want to come out. Then things went south. Our doctor, Vernon, said the baby’s heart rate was dropping . . . and cue the chaos.

One nurse pushed me back and the rest began yanking chords and plugs out of the wall and in a matter of seconds, my wife, the bed, and all those electronics were gone. I was standing in an empty delivery room with just one machine making an insane, screeching beep.

In his book A Pirate Looks at Fifty, Jimmy Buffett wrote “remember that it can all go to hell in an instant.” In that moment, I got it. Every “what if” scenario races through your head. I tried to tell myself “they do this all the time.” That didn’t make it any less scary. Just as the fact women give birth every day doesn’t make it any less miraculous and amazing. In the moment, I was terrified. I couldn't imagine losing either or both of them.

At first they told me I couldn’t go. It was an emergency C section and I had to stay put. Then a minute later a nurse returned with some scrubs and said they would let me in with her, and to put them on. The scrubs were medium. You may not know this, but I’m a big boy. I can’t get my thigh in a medium. I tried to put the shirt on and looked like Chris Farley doing “fat guy in a little coat.”

Someone scurried off to get my size from the tent and awning company down the road. They finally brought me my plus-sized scrubs and we raced down the corridor. As I finally entered, our doctor was leaving and he congratulated me on a beautiful (they have to say that – the thing is covered in strawberry jelly and crazy glue-like material) baby girl and off he went. My wife was shivering and overwhelmed, but she was okay too.

While her entry into the world was full of surprise and terror, Macy was the greatest baby. Although she did not like me the first month of her life. For a few weeks I couldn’t pick her up, feed her, or anything of the kind, without her having a full DEFCON 4 meltdown. An act of Mother Nature brought us closer together – I’ll tell that story another time. Now she’s the sweetest child, and has a face befitting the angel that she is. Most of the time. She loves to help others, make people laugh, and give and share freely. She’s been the greatest “surprise” of both of our lives.

So I’m happy to spoil her with an extra gift this year!