Fifteen years ago today my life was forever changed. That was the day I became a mom.
Zac was one anticipated baby. He was our first. He was the first grandchild on my side of the family. I remember the day he was due. Steve and I were living in Taylorsville Utah. My sister Farrah was going to BYU in Provo. Her soon to be husband, Bart had just returned from his mission and was in Utah visiting Farrah from Texas. We were hoping Zac would come on his due date because Bart was leaving the next day, and he wanted to be there. But alas, Zac did not come on his due date. I'm kinda glad because that date became famous for another reason. The night he was due, Bart and Farrah went out to eat. They came home and Steve and I were in bed watching TV. Farrah brought me the other half of her Asian Chicken Salad from Applebees. That is when we told them that a Princess had just left this earth.
Two more days went by and STILL no baby! Everyone was sure that he would come on LABOR DAY of all days. But no. He was being stubborn (a trait he still carries with him today). He had to wait until just after Labor Day was over. Thirty minutes after it was over to be precise. Bart was back in Texas. Farrah was back in Provo. I had just gone to bed and was getting ready to fall asleep when I started having these horrible pains. I tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but they wouldn't go away. Then I realized what was happening! I told Steve and we called my parents. My mother started freaking out because she had a plane ticket to come from Dallas but it wasn't until the September 3rd- the next day. Steve and I got all ready and left for the hospital.
We had taken a child birthing class and the lady who taught it told us all about how she had her all 8 of her children naturally, and that was really the only way any good mother should have her children. So I, in preparation for being the perfect mother, decided to start my perfection right off the bat. I had done as the instructor had said and made Steve promise me that no matter how much I begged for an epidural, he was not to give in and let me have one. Because, as the wise instructor had said, as soon as the contraction has passed, you will be fine again and you will be sorry you gave in. And you can never go back. No more perfect mom for you.
So this is how it went down in my delivery room. I had gone into labor at 12:30ish the morning of September 2nd. We arrived at the hospital about an hour later. Steve was at my bedside at my beck and call. When I was not having a contraction, I wanted him to touch me. Stroke my hair, rub my arm, gaze lovingly into my eyes. The eyes of the woman who was about to give him his first child. Then when a contraction hit, if he was touching me, well, let's just say...he learned real fast not to touch me in the middle of a contraction. Then there was my mom. The poor woman. Her first baby was having her first baby, and she wanted to be there. She was mad at my dad for making the plane ticket for the day AFTER her first grandchild was born (although how was he supposed to know). And she kept calling my hospital room to check on the progress (this was pre-cell phone era). This calling my room took my birth coach (Steve) away from me and so at one point I was mid contraction and Steve, who wasn't allowed to touch me mid contraction but who still needed to keep his ever loving attention focused on me, was on the phone with my mom. So I yelled, "TELL HER TO STOP CALLING!!!!!!" A fact that she still likes to bring up to this very day. But you must remember, I was trying to birth my first child without the aid of an epidural.
So...many, many hours went by. Twelve hours to be exact. Twelve hours of natural child birth. And still no baby. I really could take no more. I thought if I had to endure another contraction, I just might die right there on the spot. So I told Steve, who had been instructed by none other than myself, to refuse my requests for an epidural, I told him that I needed one. He very dutifully stroked my hair and said something to the effect that it would be ok, I didn't really want one, I could do it, blah, blah, blah...To which I grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled his face up close to mine and yelled, "GET ME AN EPIDURAL NOW BEFORE I HAVE TO SUFFER THROUGH ONE MORE CONTRACTION!!!!" And....he was off. To find a nurse. And get me some drugs.
This is what they don't tell you. When they tell you to be a good mom and go natural. They don't tell you that if you hold out as long as you possibly can, and you get to the point where you cannot possibly handle one more contraction, well, you have waited too long. Because it takes them FOREVER to get a dang anesthesiologist to come and administer the thing. But finally. Finally he arrived. Oh sweet relief. It was about 30 minutes after that that the kid-I mean Zac-finally popped out. I often wonder how much sooner he would have arrived if I had had the needle jammed in my spine when I first arrived at the hospital. We shall never know.
So we were rebels and we never found out with any of our kids what they were going to be before they were born. But Steve and I were both so sure that this baby was going to be a boy. We had the names Austin and Zachary picked out. We were just waiting to see him to decided which one fit. As soon as we saw him, we both knew he was a Zac. We gave him the middle name of Roy. My doctor thought we were naming him after him since his middle name is Roy, but that wasn't the case. He was named after this bunch:
His great grandfather Roy Nelson, his grandfather Roy Otto, and his father Stephen Roy
My dad, as soon as he got the word that it was indeed a boy, went out shopping. My mother arrived on the plane the next day with a huge, huge bag full of boy clothes. I think Zac could have worn a different outfit every day for a month. Everyone wondered how I could not find out what I was having so that I could prepare. My reply was that I didn't need to worry about that. I knew it would be taken care of. He had a full years worth of clothes before he even left the hospital.
And there we were. Our cute little family of 3.
Not long after Zac was born Farrah and Bart were married (hence the tux Zac is wearing in the above pictures) and they lived in Provo and we were able to see them often. Being the first grandchild, he was very spoiled by everyone.
My brother Sam was only 10 years old when Zac was born and the two of them were best buds. They share the opposite affliction. Sam has 4 older sisters and Zac has 3 younger sisters. I still remember the time I put Zac in the car when he was really little. He asked where we were going and I told him we were going to Sam's (the wholesale club). And he thought I meant Sam's (his uncle in Dallas). He was so confused and sad when we pulled up to do our grocery shopping.
In December of 2010, Zac was the Best Man at Sam's wedding in Dallas.
Steve and Zac (AKA Mini Me)
I really can't believe it has been 15 years. In just a few days Zac will start his freshman year at school.
Here he is with his friend Garrett at EFY earlier this summer
Being goofy with his friend Ethan
And on his way to his first week working at Scout Camp. He worked at a Scout Camp (this has been a dream of his since he was a Cub Scout) this summer.
Z, I love you. You are my most FAVORITE son.
Thank you for being you.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
Love, Mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment