My Baby

Thirty years ago today, it was 8am on a Saturday morning, my husband was working and I was enjoying a few extra minutes in bed. Suddenly, I felt something funny and thought the waterbed (yes, it was 1982!) had sprung a leak! Upon further investigation, it seemed, I had spring the leak! It had not happened like this during my first pregnancy with our daughter, but this time my water broke. Reluctantly, I called the doctor because there were no other signs of labor and, total control freak me, had been saying I wasn't going to the hospital this time until the baby was about to deliver! Once again, my favorite saying rears it's head, "Man plans. God laughs."
The doctor, rather emphatically, insisted that I needed to be in the hospital, for my safety and that of my baby. Realizing I was not going to win this argument with him, I agreed. Next, I called the homeowner where my husband was working (remember, 30 years ago ~ no pagers, no cell phones ~ just land lines!!!!) and I told her that I needed to speak with the guy working in her backyard, she refused. She said she was in her pajamas and wouldn't go outside in them. When I told her I was having a baby and needed him, she quickly changed her tune and ran outside. It was early, they had just unloaded all the tools and, his brother quickly began to reload them in the truck (remember this, Kevin?).
We arrived at St. Joseph's Hospital around 10:00am, got settled in and after the nurse made her examination, she said very little was happening. See, I told you I should have stayed home for awhile!! No, no, she replied, this is still where I needed to be. When the doc arrived, he suggested we start a pitocin drip to "help things along". My first child had been delivered without so much as a Bayer aspirin, so this was all new, uncharted waters for me. I had heard all the pitocin horror stories, hard to control contractions, more intense than normal, etc. Asking the doctor how long it would all take, he replied, "Let's get the train out of the station before we say when it will arrive at its destination!" Sounded like a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon!!
After many hours, having to endure a Lakers game on the television, at 4:40pm, our baby arrived. Remember, this was in the day when nobody knew what they were having and one of the rewards of hours of hard work (it ain't called labor for nothing!!), was finding out what "it" was. We had a boy! Later that night, my husband, who adored (adores) our daughter, came back to see me and said, "I knew it was another girl and I love Amber so much, I was fine with it, but I HAVE A SON!!
We had chosen the name of Justin if it was a boy. We were sure that was the right name. "J" names were really hip back then! The lady from the county recorders office came in the next day asking me to fill out the form with his name and info. I have no idea why, but I hesitated. I refused to fill it out until I talked to my husband one more time. When he got to the hospital that day, we walked to the nursery window and looked at our baby again. "I don't think he's a Justin", I said. "I think he's Tyler." And, so he was....and is. Thirty years later, he has many names, Ty, "T", Uncle T and more. He is still my baby.