He was due on the 13th.
And he was big.
The year was 1993...and I was pregnant with my 2nd child - a 2nd son, the doctor had said. And he was big. So big, that the doctor decided to induce labor early.
"I don't want him born on the 13th", I had stated. "I don't want a Friday the 13th baby - that's unlucky!"
And so the doctor induced on the 12th...I went into the hospital in the early morning hours, got hooked up to the necessary IV of pitocin....drip, drip, drip...and I waited.
Hours go by...no baby.
My older son had been born by emergency C-section, and I so wanted to avoid that with this son. I had faithfully gone to VBAC classes so that I would know what to do...I avoided the epidural, as the doctor had attributed my 1st C-section to the epidural...so I was going through this naturally.
No pain medication.
For hours, it hurt...and then it came time to push.
And I pushed.
And he still didn't come.
After two hours of intense pushing, the umbilical cord had wrapped around the baby's neck.
"C-section! NOW!" the doctor yelled.
And so, 18 years ago today, my 2nd son was born at 6:30 pm in the evening.
And I learned that it wouldn't have mattered if he'd been born on the 13th...it wouldn't have mattered if I'd had an epidural... all that mattered was that I had a big, beautiful, healthy baby boy who has now grown into a (very!) tall, handsome young man of 18...about to graduate and take on the world....
Happy birthday, son.
I love you.