I have always loved a good Post Script on a letter. It’s a wonderful way to add in something you wanted to say but it just didn’t quite happen in the main part. A post script allows you to go off topic and just throw in something beautiful, like “P.S. I love you.”

Sometimes life is like that, too. You do your best to live a life that makes you happy and sometimes you get to the end of a chapter but you need to add a little something.

We had some major excitement at work this past week and I was a little worried that we were going to have to deliver a baby in the parking lot! It all turned out okay (ambulance arrived before we had to boil water and get some towels) but it has me thinking a lot about my little post script – The Boy.

There is a thirteen year age gap between Ladybug and The Boy. I often joke that I have “bookends” but no books. It wasn’t that I didn’t want more books. Ladybug begged for a little brother for all thirteen of those years! It just didn’t go that way. Then, right about the time that THAT chapter was coming to an end we decided to throw in a little something beautiful – P.S. The Boy.

Today we celebrate nine years since The Boy entered our lives and Wow, did he make an entrance. We’ve had nine years of watching him grow and attempting to keep up with his energy and his curiosity and his big big brain! Ladybug has had nine years of teaching him how to be really annoying and then getting annoyed by the things she taught him. It’s been an adventure!

In my previous blog, Spinning Plates, I told the story of his arrival and I thought this would be a good time to share it again. It was a good day but the days that followed have been even better. Ladybug absolutely adores the brother that she waited forever for, even when she wants to punch him in the face. I think The Boy is conducting an experiment to see exactly how many buttons he can push before she bursts into flames. You can really feel the love. (That made me laugh out loud when I typed it!)

They really do care for each other, though. Support each other’s interests and take care of each other’s hearts and they are prepared to take down anybody that hurts the other. They love each other just a little bit.

P.S. I love them!

The Boy Arrives Originally Published November 15, 2011 on http://www.thespin.blog.com

For those of you interested in this sort of thing, I thought I would share one of those “Stories for Another Day” – the whole story of one very exciting Friday – January 21, 2011 – the day we welcomed The Boy into the world. It’s totally TMI but it’s a good story.

On Thursday, January 20th, Big Love and I attended our FIRST childbirth class at the hospital. We learned a lot about breathing through contractions and relaxation techniques. But the instructor pointed out that the most important part of being the coach was knowing mommy and what she needs and being able to follow her cues. When we got home we had a long talk about what relaxes me and what kind of delivery I wanted to have. I really didn’t want any drugs but I realized that sometimes plans change and I just wanted what was best for The Boy. Big Love agreed and told me that if I wanted this delivery to be drug free then he had absolute faith in me that it would be drug free and everything would be just fine. Apparently The Boy was listening to his Daddy and took that as his cue.

Friday morning about 5 a.m. I was startled awake by the sensation that I was peeing myself. I had that “Holy cow!” moment but was able to stop the flow and went to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up, changed jammies and went back to bed. Not too long later the same thing happened. I thought “Okay, EIGHT months with no bladder control trouble and now this?!?!?!?!”

Then it happened again.

Yes, it did occur to me that it could be my water breaking but at 35 weeks…Nahhh. And I could stop the flow so surely the baby had changed positions or something and now I was going to need diapers for the last month of my pregnancy.

So Big Love went to work. The Teenager missed the bus and I drove her to school and wet myself again as I was getting out of the Jeep to come home. Okay, somethings up. I called in sick to work and said something lame like “sinus trouble” or something because no way was I going to say “I can’t come in today because I can’t stop wetting myself.” Then I actually chatted with two of my bffs and laughed that I wasn’t going to work because I keep peeing my pants!

Around 8:30, I called the doctors office and told them what was going on. The nurse told me to come in because it could be that he just shifted or it could be something else. She said “I would feel better if you just came in. Can you be here at 9:15?”

Ummmmm….no, of course I can’t be there in 30 minutes! I’ve gotta shower! I told her I could be there at 10:15.

Big Love said he would go with me to the doctor’s just to make sure everything was alright. He called my Daddy to “mind the store” and told him “We won’t be long. I should be back by 1:00.” Famous last words.

While I was in the shower there was a moment of “Oh! That was a lot of pressure.” Followed by a “Oooooh. THAT was a LOT of pressure.”

By the time we got to the doctor’s office I knew exactly what was going on but thought I would be polite and let the midwife tell me. After all, we really adore her and she cleared her schedule to see me, it was only fair. So she did the litmus test and it IMMEDIATELY turned blue. Big Love’s eyes got real big and he said “That turned awful fast.” We knew what that meant because it was one of the things discussed in our childbirth class. She went to do the ferning test and when she walked back in the room she said “Well, we get to have a baby today!”

Yeah, I knew what was going on but something about her saying it out loud was a little too real. But that was okay because I had been so calm this whole time and JUST when I started to get nervous a serenity came over my husband. He just said “Okay.” And smiled like she had just asked him if he’d like to be king of the world.

She said she didn’t want to disturb anything “down there” but she wanted to check me just to see how things were progressing. I have never seen anybody move more slowly or cautiously. She VERY gently removed her hand and said “Go straight to the hospital. DO NOT stop anywhere. I will meet you there. Walk SLOWLY.”

I was at 6 centimeters.

Yes, I had a hospital checklist. I had a birthplan in the works. But I had not packed a thing. I didn’t have a gown to wear at the hospital. I didn’t have The Boy’s little hat embroidered like I had planned. Or put together the little goodies for hospital visitors. I had a month to finish all that stuff or that was the plan. Plans change.

The people at the hospital must not be used to people coming in calmly and telling them that they’re having a baby because they certainly didn’t seem in any rush. I would close my eyes and hold Big Love’s hand through contractions as they made a copy of my insurance card and asked me “How do you spell your street name?” (Oh yes, PLEASE make sure that my street address is spelled right, just in case you need to MAIL my son to me. Don’t want him going to the wrong address! ) Just when I was about to yell that they needed to step it up a notch she said – “Okay. We’ll show you upstairs.” Oh thank goodness!

When we got up there it wasn’t much better. I stopped at the counter and told them who I was. They asked why I was there. I said “My midwife should have faxed over my information. I’m here to have a baby.”

They looked at me.

And then they looked at me some more.

Why wasn’t anybody MOVING??? I asked “Would it help if I did this?” And I drooped over the counter and said “I’M HAVING A BABY RIGHT NOW!” The snarky nurse said “You’ll get more attention like that.” By that time, they found the orders that the midwife had faxed over and at noon a nurse (beautiful, lovely, one of my new favorite people) took me to a room, put me in a gown and put me in bed. A wonderful soft clean warm bed.

My father-in-law showed up to see how things were going and Big Love told him “Fast.” He was only there a few minutes (we chatted about something but I don’t really remember what) and then I told my husband that it was time to kick out his dad. The nurse needed to check me. The nurse said “I don’t want to disturb anything down there.” And then looked at the little machine thingy that measures contractions and with eyes wide said “MAN! You are bangin’ ‘em out! Yeah, I’ll check you.”

She checked and immediately started buzzing the nurses desk and told them to call the midwife and get her here NOW. She told me to try not to push until the midwife got there but if I needed to push just tell her first.

My Big Love was right by my side the whole time just quietly holding me but now he knew this was his turn at bat. He grasped my hand and put his other hand on my head and started rubbing my head telling me everthing was going to be okay. He breathed with me and told me everything I needed to hear. “You can do this, baby. I’m right here. I love you so much.” Hearing his voice, so reassuring, really helped me to focus on what we were here to do. Bring our son into the world.

The midwife arrived in record time and I was SOOOO glad to see her. I don’t think I could have breathed through many more of those contractions, no matter how much my hubby loves me!

I don’t know what time it was when we started pushing but I know that Big Love held my hand (and a leg) through the whole thing. And the nurse (holding my other leg) counted while we took deep breathes and pushed, pushed, pushed, pushed.

At 12:53, my husband looked at me with the biggest smile and said “Honey, HE LOOKED AT ME!” One more little push and The Boy was all the way out. The midwife laid him on my chest and he was so beautiful and so wiggly and really really pissed. He cried and it sounded like a little goat – an angry little goat. The midwife had prepared me for a really skinny, not-so-cute preemie but he was gorgeous at 6 lb 5 oz and 19 3/4 inches long.

The midwife asked Big Love if he’d like to cut the cord and he said “Where do I cut?” As soon as The Boy heard his voice he started blinking and turning his head in his daddy’s direction as if to say “Be careful Daddy. Give me a nice inny!”

And Big Love did.