The news came as quite a surprise. While caring for a four month old baby girl, I was informed by my nurse practitioner, "Yes, you are definitely pregnant." We laughed about nobody telling me fertility was "enhanced" in the post partum period. When she said, "Boy, they will be close," she wasn't kidding. Grant was born almost exactly thirteen months from the date of his sister's birth.
Finding out we were having a boy was a thrill. I pictured a rough-and-tumble boy and that is exactly what we received.
The night of Grant's birth was a comedy. After my water broke in the middle of the night we drove to the hospital but it was one we were familiar with only during the day. At night everything looked different. We parked and started walking but couldn't find the after-hours entrance. I started to get tired and found a bench. My husband said he would go walk around and figure it out. It was dark. There was NOBODY around. I started to freak out. Here I was ready to deliver a baby and I'm sitting on a bench, in the dark, by myself. Needless to say, a few choice words were exchanged that night. I was a deranged pregnant woman.
My wonderful (and embarrassingly good-looking) obstetrician made it in for the delivery and August 5, 1993 brought a beautiful baby boy into this world.
The photo above is of Grant in one of my favorite Gymboree outfits compliments of Nana
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