Babies and birthing and stuff

I became an aunt today. Okay, okay. A step-aunt.

Little Peep was born at 2 a.m., weighing in at 9 pounds, 6 ounces. Suffice it to say, his mama had an epidural. (Actually, she wanted to go natural, but since they had to induce labor [the due date was the 12th], she couldn't. It's all very involved, what with the machines and whatnot.)

So this morning my very own mama called me to brag about her newfound grandmotherness and I got to hear, again, the glory of my very own birthday.

I was also overdue, and my mom told me she'd begun to panic as she desperately wanted a June baby. So on the last day of the month she went to the doctor one more time. A few more days, he told her. Just try and stay comfortable.

But the only thing I could stay comfortable in was this big green, gawdawful mumu looking thing, she told me.

I remember standing in front of the neighbor's house, her son was going to watch G whenever it was time to go to the hospital, talking to her. And I was wearing that stupid green tent, and I had my foot up on the curb, and I was sort of bouncing. I got tired so I went in and laid down on the sofa to watch Little House on the Prairie. After awhile, I realized I was having contractions, so I told your father we should probably call the doctor. Your daddy started timing the contractions and around 8 we left for the hospital.

You were born at 10:06 p.m.

Y'all. A THREE hour labor. I was like a three hour labor. How much ass does that kick? They say your pregnancies mimic your mother's. She was only in labor with G for about 10. Plus she told me: no morning sickness. Well, nothing a few crackers couldn't take care of.

But the best part of that story is the fact that it set a pattern for my life: I always wait till the last minute. I knew I wanted to be a June girl, but I also wanted to stay in that womb for as long as possible.

It was easy to envision. I'm sure it was really hot that day, what with it being summer in Texas and all. I bet G was being a terror and my dad probably came home from work, took off his pants and watched t.v. in his dress shirt, boxers and black socks. The layout of our living room never changed, so I can see them all - my mom on the yellow and green floral printed couch, my dad in the orange chair, feet on the ottoman, G spazzing out somewhere. And they were watching the Ingalls. And then it was just time. I'm sure G cried when my dad carried him over to the neighbor's and I bet my mom had to be the one to grab her bag.

I still just can't get over that she was only in the hospital for two hours before I popped out. She once told me that she didn't think I'd wait for the doctor. You were ready! she said. And you weren't waitin' on anyone!

I'm going to see my Little Peep tomorrow, when they all get home from the hospital. I'm so thrilled for my stepbrother and my mom and stepfather. It's an exciting time and an amazing thing, and with Little Peep's arrival, I really feel like an adult.

Perhaps that makes no sense, but it feels normal to have my mom finally be a grandmother, even if it is to her husband's grandchild, not her own. Also, it's not hard to think about Little Peep eventually being an older cousin to my babies. It feels right and normal.

But for now, I'm just going to love on him as much as I can. I'm angling to make his first words be Aunt Hannie. Hey, it could happen.