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Judith and Sam welcome Samuel Allen Thomas
Richards.
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Great Expectations
Journal entry #4
November 30, 2001
Previous journal entry
On Tuesday night Sam and I took a two-and-a-half hour
newborn care class—and not a moment too soon.
Quite unexpectedly, about three hours after we got home from
the class, my water broke. Instead of going to bed, we were
going to the hospital. Less than four hours later, at 3:40
a.m. on Wednesday, November 28th, Samuel Allen Thomas
Richards made his first appearance, weighing in at six
pounds, eight ounces.
The baby arrived three weeks before the due date assigned by
our doctor. And Thomas, as we'll probably call him, was
breech—rear-end first, rather than headfirst. Sam and
I had scheduled an appointment for the following Friday to
attempt to coax the baby around in the womb, but by the wee
hours of Wednesday it was already too late for that. I had
to have a Caesarian section.
We were both considerably scared before we heard the baby's
first cries. You think of all the things that can go wrong.
I was squeezing Sam's hand tightly as the doctors worked. It
was a blessing when a small but feisty Thomas appeared.
Every aspect of him seemed perfect.
I had spent many evenings prior to the birth lying feet on
the couch, head on the floor, trying to get the baby to turn
himself around. It didn't work, obviously. Maybe that wasn't
such a bad thing, however, given that when contractions
finally came about 90 minutes before the delivery, I
discovered, as most women do, that they were quite
unpleasant. I may have been spared a painful labor process.
Everything went amazingly quickly, from preparing to go to
bed at midnight as a mother-to-be, to seeing my son for the
first time less than four hours later. I may have been
spared labor, but I paid for that by spending three-plus
days in the hospital on pain medication. And all of this
happened so fast that we were not very well prepared. We
didn't pack a hospital suitcase, didn't read all of the baby
books, didn't get all the arranging at the house done on
time.
But it all worked out well just the same.
Sam and my parents spent a considerable amount of time with
me in the hospital. At first, little Thomas was extremely
peaceful but on the second day he fussed and cried
incessantly when I pulled him away from nursing. His failure
to go to sleep with ease wore on both Sam and me and
foreshadowed many more frustrating moments with Thomas to
come. We were both exhausted.
But when he is not crying Thomas gives these little looks
that I'm sure God designed to endear babies to their
parents. Darned if they don't work.
I expect to be home from the hospital on Saturday. Sam and I
will get plenty of help from my mom, who lives nearby, and
from Sam's mom, who is flying in from Montana to spend a
week with her new grandson and his new parents. Sam will
have two weeks off from work to help get life with young
Thomas started.
Previous journal entry
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