Saturday, September 28, 2013 - Buon Compleanno Cara Mio
(The cartoon comes courtesy of Lauren Vary. This was Carolyn’s birth announcement. I didn’t have the presence of mind to save it.)
Our daughter Carolyn (second daughter, third child) turned 28 years old yesterday. The name Carolyn originated as an Italian feminine form of Charles - and means “strong.” Whenever Carolyn sees me, she picks me up and spins me around. It makes me laugh because – in my mind – she’s still my baby. Hubs doesn’t like it when she grabs him around the waist and shakes him – it makes him feel old.
When we take our kids out for their birthday supper – when they are in town, that is – I always like to tell them the story about the day they were born. Whereas our other three kids will complain, “Stop, Mom. I don’t need to hear this! Especially in a restaurant!” – Carolyn is always all ears.
Here is her birth story. It was in the middle of a weekday afternoon when I started getting contractions, so I called Laur to come home from work. By the time he arrived, the contractions had stopped. I was pretty sure they’d start up again because I was two weeks “overdue.” Anna and Tom were both home by now and were getting a little jumpy. (Perhaps it was me getting a little jumpy. No matter, when you’re 10 months pregnant, everyone feels compelled to agree with you.)
I suggested to Laurence that he take our kids to their gym lessons (yes, Anna, I had you in gym lessons. Sorry about that) so that I could relax. He no sooner left then things started happening in a majorly way. I called Beth, who was going to babysit for us. Not home. I called Lauren, my gal pal who was coming with us, and I called the gym.
If memory serves me right (and pain is very distracting) it took me a while to track down everyone – and it seems to me that everyone eventually arrived at the same time. Lauren drove us and I fogged up the car trying to get “on top on my breathing.” (By that I mean keep myself from howling.) By the time I got into my bed at the Sudbury General Hospital, I was screeching non-stop. It never fails to amaze me that Lauren – in spite of this experience – then went on to become a midwife. I would have become a sales rep for sodium pentothal.
In what seemed like forever to anyone in the room with me, and what was really very little time at all, Carolyn was born. 8 lb, 3 oz. My biggest baby ever. And what a big placenta she had. (Carolyn loves that part of the story – she described herself as having four straws instead of two.) My family doctor – who I had assured ahead of time that I wanted Natural Childbirth – was a little taken aback by the frequency and volume of my yelling. He turned to the nurse at one point and said, “I’ve heard that some Italian women make noise that in labour.” (Blush! I’m sorry.)
*****
Carolyn also loves to hear “Carolyn and her food supply” stories, like that she quit breastfeeding at 18 months when she realized bottles were so much faster. And that her Aunt Anita laughed when I fed Carolyn pablum. You see, Caro had and has a mouth like mine. VERY WIDE. And for some reason I insisted on using a baby spoon, when a ladle would have been more appropriate. Caro would open her mouth around the food, and the whole spoon would disappear up to my fingers.
Carolyn – no surprise – loves working in food service. Currently she works at Subway and loves making people happy with sandwiches made to their liking. One day she would like to run a café – Caro’s Café has a nice ring to it.
And returning to the Italian connection “Caro” in Italian means “dear one.” And she is.
Our daughter Carolyn (second daughter, third child) turned 28 years old yesterday. The name Carolyn originated as an Italian feminine form of Charles - and means “strong.” Whenever Carolyn sees me, she picks me up and spins me around. It makes me laugh because – in my mind – she’s still my baby. Hubs doesn’t like it when she grabs him around the waist and shakes him – it makes him feel old.
When we take our kids out for their birthday supper – when they are in town, that is – I always like to tell them the story about the day they were born. Whereas our other three kids will complain, “Stop, Mom. I don’t need to hear this! Especially in a restaurant!” – Carolyn is always all ears.
Here is her birth story. It was in the middle of a weekday afternoon when I started getting contractions, so I called Laur to come home from work. By the time he arrived, the contractions had stopped. I was pretty sure they’d start up again because I was two weeks “overdue.” Anna and Tom were both home by now and were getting a little jumpy. (Perhaps it was me getting a little jumpy. No matter, when you’re 10 months pregnant, everyone feels compelled to agree with you.)
I suggested to Laurence that he take our kids to their gym lessons (yes, Anna, I had you in gym lessons. Sorry about that) so that I could relax. He no sooner left then things started happening in a majorly way. I called Beth, who was going to babysit for us. Not home. I called Lauren, my gal pal who was coming with us, and I called the gym.
If memory serves me right (and pain is very distracting) it took me a while to track down everyone – and it seems to me that everyone eventually arrived at the same time. Lauren drove us and I fogged up the car trying to get “on top on my breathing.” (By that I mean keep myself from howling.) By the time I got into my bed at the Sudbury General Hospital, I was screeching non-stop. It never fails to amaze me that Lauren – in spite of this experience – then went on to become a midwife. I would have become a sales rep for sodium pentothal.
In what seemed like forever to anyone in the room with me, and what was really very little time at all, Carolyn was born. 8 lb, 3 oz. My biggest baby ever. And what a big placenta she had. (Carolyn loves that part of the story – she described herself as having four straws instead of two.) My family doctor – who I had assured ahead of time that I wanted Natural Childbirth – was a little taken aback by the frequency and volume of my yelling. He turned to the nurse at one point and said, “I’ve heard that some Italian women make noise that in labour.” (Blush! I’m sorry.)
*****
Carolyn also loves to hear “Carolyn and her food supply” stories, like that she quit breastfeeding at 18 months when she realized bottles were so much faster. And that her Aunt Anita laughed when I fed Carolyn pablum. You see, Caro had and has a mouth like mine. VERY WIDE. And for some reason I insisted on using a baby spoon, when a ladle would have been more appropriate. Caro would open her mouth around the food, and the whole spoon would disappear up to my fingers.
Carolyn – no surprise – loves working in food service. Currently she works at Subway and loves making people happy with sandwiches made to their liking. One day she would like to run a café – Caro’s Café has a nice ring to it.
And returning to the Italian connection “Caro” in Italian means “dear one.” And she is.