Happy Birthday, Alyssa!

Five years ago today I became a mother. We went in for a doctor's appointment on the 8th of August, two thousand and two and were greeted by a very happy certified nurse midwife, John Rose. I loved going to him. He always had a bit of trivia to tell us (What's the largest herb? A banana!) and he always had time to answer any questions I had, which were many, considering that I was a first-time mommy. It was the day before my due date, and I think I was only a centimeter dilated, so he stripped my membranes to see if that would hurry things along. We were told that if something were to happen then it would happen within the next forty-eight hours.


After the appointment I went to the mall with my mother-in-law and I walked as fast as my hugely pregnant body would let me, for as long as I could. No real contractions. I went home, had dinner, still no contractions, then went to bed. Since nothing seemed to be happening, Brian decided to invite some friends over to play Risk. He came to bed at twelve o'clock, and I got out of bed at twelve-thirty, because I was finally starting to get some real contractions.


We were living in Brian's grandma's basement for the summer, so I headed to the family room to lie down on the couch and count contractions (why I didn't walk around, I don't know). Brian had given me a beautiful new watch, which he said would be great for timing my contractions with. The only problem was that it didn't have a second hand. So I pulled out his watch and stared at it, counting when the contractions came, counting how long they lasted, and counting how much time there were between them. When things felt like they were getting serious, I woke up Brian and told him it was time to go to the hospital. It was four-thirty in the morning.


We arrived at the hospital five minutes later. Even though it was a short drive, it was a hard one. I was leaking fluid, which I thought was my water breaking, but apparently it wasn't, and I was holding my bottom off of the seat, because Brian kept shouting, "Don't get it on my car!"


When we checked into the hospital, they monitored me for a bit to see if I was truly in labor. I was, which thrilled me. I would have cried so hard if they had sent me home. At this point I hadn't decided if I would get an epidural or not, so they gave me a shot of pain killer so I could sleep for a while. They should have given something to Brian, too, because he was stretched out on a couch that was way too short for him, and he had a very hard time sleeping.


The day progressed, but I did not. They broke my water around lunch time. I ended up getting an epidural. By evening time, they checked where the baby was, and she had moved higher into my body than she had been when I arrived early that morning. I had been pushing for about two hours, and nothing was happening. The baby had turned sideways, so her head was facing my hip. It was at this point that john Rose asked if I wanted a c-section. After twenty-two hours of labor, I readily agreed.


The epidural had long since run out, and the anesthesiologist was busy, so it took a while for him to come prep me for surgery. The nurses told me to stop pushing, since it would do no good. That was horrible! When you're pushing, it hurts, but you can concentrate on pushing. When you stop pushing, you just have to lay there, letting each contraction come and go. And even though I wasn't getting any closer to delivering the baby, the contractions were coming closer and closer together. At first I would squeeze Brian's hand, to take my mind off the pain. Pretty soon I had him squeeze my hand, as hard as he could, so I could at least concentrate on a different kind of pain. When I was a little girl I was in a car accident and needed to have fifty-six stitches in my head. It hurt a lot. The doctor told me to say "Ow" every time it hurt. I spent I-don't-know-how-long saying "Ow, ow, ow, ow," over and over again. I reverted to this strategy when the contractions would come, but my moans were a little louder and a little more intense. "Ow, ow, ow, Owwwww!" And that is what my parents heard when they arrived at the hospital.


Eventually, I was prepped and wheeled into surgery, and Alyssa was delivered at ten o'clock in the evening. She was a beautiful baby, and very very sweet. She showed us that she had a temper the next morning when she had trouble latching on while nursing. It didn't take her long to get the hang of it, though, and she grew quickly.


She was strong and active since day one. She was rolling over and crawling by four months, walking by nine, and running soon after. She was talking early, too. She didn't babble in sentence form, like most toddlers. She worked on one word at a time until she mastered it, then she moved on to the next word. There was never a time that we didn't understand what she was saying, because she always spoke so clearly.


She's always been difficult to keep up with. I'm excited for her to go to kindergarten, so I can have a few hours of rest each day. Even though she's a good girl, she's exhausting! She doesn't sit still for long, and she's constantly running around on adventures. Most of these adventures end up getting her in trouble, but when you ask for her motives behind the action, they always make sense. She's so clever, and so smart.


Alyssa is also one of the most polite and friendly little girls you will ever meet. When we went with Brian's mom to meet Christina and her kids at the park, she instinctively introduced Diane to all of the cousins. She is so good about saying please and thank you, and she's always concerned about others' feelings.

Alyssa loves to sing! She can belt out songs from "Phantom of the Opera" like no body's business. She also loves to make up her own songs, and she gives us concerts sometimes.

Alyssa loves Heavenly Father and and Jesus. She's learning about them and when she makes a mistake we talk about ways to make them happy. She knows that immodesty makes Heavenly Father sad, and she points that out when she sees girls around town making bad choices concerning their dress. She loves to pray! Sometimes I forget to have prayer for breakfast or lunch, but Alyssa always reminds me.

I'm so thankful to have Alyssa in our family! I couldn't ask for a better daughter. We love her so much!