Seven years ago today, our life was much different. We were in the middle of a major renovation on the house, adding a 24'x26' family room addition, with a basement underneath. The workers had been at it for several weeks, and were ready to knock down the existing wall from where our house ended, to where the house would continue. We would be without air conditioning for at least a few weeks, and it was the end of a very hot, very typical, very humid, summer in Chicago.
I worked from home, like I do today, but it was with another company I had been at for four years by then, and where I would stay for another five. That day, July 31, 2002, I was in the middle of an argument with a co-worker. What we were arguing about, I have no recollection. We actually have made amends since then, but our personalities just didn't click. When she interviewed for the job she eventually got, I had recommended against hiring her. There was something about her I wasn't comfortable with; something I couldn't put my finger on. Several years later, I would become the manager of her sister, and gain a huge amount of respect for both of the women. I'm sure the issues I had with her were all mine.
But that day, we argued. We argued on the phone, we complained to each other's bosses privately. We publicly humiliated each other via email. It all seemed so important back then, but I really have no recollection why we were fighting. If asked, I wonder if she remembers what it was all about.
Making a point and being right, in retrospect, meant nothing compared to what was going to happen to me later that day. In fact, it was happening to me as we were in the thick of things, and I had no idea. I was focused on the moment, and at that moment, I was at battle.
As the workers were pounding their hammers at our existing wall, taking it down with much force, and as I was furiously typing on my keyboard, angry words being formed with every key stroke, Cyndi was across the hall going into labor.
We had been at the doctor's office earlier in the week, and we scheduled an appointment to induce labor the following day, August 1. We had no idea, but the doctor was scheduled to golf in a vendor tournament on the 31st, so he attempted, as best he could, to control this particular labor. I was college roommates with his son, so he figured the extra latitude was earned.
Cyndi was in the bathroom, her plug had released, and she was calling my name, telling me it was time. Her labor with Frederic had taken hours two years before, so I figured we had plenty of time. I threw up the white flag, emailed my boss, waited for my mother-in-law to come get our son, and told the contractor we'd be gone the rest of the day.
The hospital is only two miles from our house, so we were there in less than five minutes. We were in the deliver room in fifteen, and the epidural was being administered within the hour. Cyndi wasn't allowed to push during labor with Frederic due to her sensitive eye situation, but this time she was going to be able to participate a bit more.
It all happened so quickly. Cyndi went from 3cm dilation to 10cm in less than 20 minutes, and our daughter, Lily was born early that afternoon. She had some oxygen issues from the start, so my first interaction with her was to hold the face mask on her as they checked her Apgar scores. Her grayish skin began to color up within the hour, but they were afraid that she was born with an infection. We were not going to be able to take her home for a couple of days; something we didn't have to worry about with Frederic. We were prepared, we thought; experts at this parenthood thing. But our baby daughter was in trouble, and we knew very little about how to help her.
We relied on the medical expertise of the nursing and physician staff. We did everything they asked of us, including remaining patient throughout her stay. As it turned out, the infection was not there, so they let her come home a day earlier than anticipated.
We were sure that we were not going to make the same mistakes we did the first time around. We were going to take things slow, feed her when Cyndi knew she needed to be fed, bathe her properly, and shower her with love (the easy part). We felt guilty that we had no air conditioning, so we went out and bought window units to compensate for the extreme heat.
Lily has yet to complain about anything from the first days of her life, so I think we're off the hook. She continues to amaze and entertain our little family, and remains a unique force within or lives. She loves ballet, gum, and clothes. She received an early morning present hunt today (four packs of gum and a hoola hoop), a shopping day at Kohl's with mom (clothes), and dinner at The Melting Pot; her choice. Tomorrow, I'll BBQ a ten pound Boston Butt and make Pulled Pork. I'll marinate four pounds of skirt steak in a coffee based rub and Kahlua. I'll cook up a batch of Boston Baked Beans in the crock pot, I've already made four dozen of my grandmother's chocolate chip Mandel Bread. I do these things, cooking, because it makes me feel good. It makes Lily feel good when she sees her father cook for his family. She told me this before.
And we will party. We will have each of our families over for dinner (some one's got to eat all of this food), and it will be about celebrating. Enjoying the fact that she came into our lives. She came a day early, when we were busy with life. She made us stop and appreciate life. She made us realize that home additions and work problems come second to life; second to love.
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