How Can You Be 9?

It was a long, long day.  The night before, my mother and husband loaded me up with a sleeping pill, put me in the tub and left me.  As I repeatedly started sliding under the water, I finally managed to bang out a morse code s.o.s. and they came and pulled me out – only to wake me hours later to go to the hospital to wait for Andra.  Problem is, Andra didn’t get the memo.

So after an immeasurably long 18 hours, we finally welcomed miss Andra into the family.  Phil was walking around in a daze, and to use a line from Sex in the City – it was like suddenly there was a giraffe in the room. 

My favorite picture of the day is below.  I have assigned it the only appropriate title for the poor, smashed baby who changed our life, who grew our hearts by sizes, who made me a mother and who helped us become a family.  The thing I love about this picture is that after what we went through to get the “prize”, we look so happy to have the bruised, pointy headed, smashed nose, swollen eyed baby puddle.  And so I bring you:

                              The Face Only a Mother Could Love

Happy Birthday 9 Year Old Girl. 

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1 Response to How Can You Be 9?

  1. jennie says:

    some people look just like their baby picture, but it’s pretty safe to say that Andra’s changed quite a bit.and, I don’t really get the part about your family drugging you then placing you in the tub.last thing, I never really thought that you and I looked very much alike, but I’m pretty sure I have a photo of myself that looks an awful lot like you in this picture. and I don’t know what that says about either one of us – that right after you gave birth to your first child is the moment that our familial resemblance appeared.

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