Wednesday night, April 20, 1988.  I spent most of church suffering through chills and running to the bathroom.  Why I ever went I'll never know.  All day I had felt like I had a flu bug.  As I in my not-so-blissful ignorance shivered my way home, Louise Shrewsbury told my labor coach Polly that "she's going to have that baby tonight."   Something about her tone must have convinced Polly because she went home and covered the passenger seat with garbage bags.

I, on the other hand, fell asleep on the couch almost as soon as I got in the door.  Around ten o'clock I woke up and automatically moved toward the bathroom.  It was a reflex.  I didnt take a step before my water broke.  It wasn't the sweetly sentimental thing I'd romantically conjured in my mind.  It was gross.  I interrupted my mom's shower  (and she immediately turned off the water without rinsing her hair!  hee hee) to tell her and went to call the doctor and Polly.

We had a fun ride to Apple Valley, complete with scaring the patrons of the all night diner at Kramer Jct.  We arrived just after midnight and I was dialated to five.  WAHOO.  About two hours later a terrible contraction hit me and the doctor kicked my mom out.  I remember something roughly to the effect of, "You, out!"  I think she was a bit gray. 

The following morning I delivered, (after 11 hours of labor including 2 caused by them trying to hold me back!!!) and eagerly called my boss to inform her that I woudlnt' be into work.  Her first question was, "Did you cuss anyone out???"   I had no idea so I asked the nurse.  (Her name was Julie and she was having a terrible morning after stepping on her husband's little dog)  Her response was, "No, you kept apologizing to everyone!"  No idea why I was apologizing.

My best memory of the birth was when they were going to wheel me into my room.  The nurse stood on my left and asked for my right arm.  I gave it to her and she just flopped me onto my belly.  After the initial panic (it'd been a while since I was able to get on my stomach!) it felt soo good!  Especially after they covered me with blankets right out of the dryer!   The part that wasn't so great was listening to the doctors talk about the baby, laugh about the baby, clean her up... and we still don't know what she is!  After about five minutes Polly said, "Well, WHAT IS IT!!!"

A GIRL!!

I named her Challice Kelline.  I liked the way Challice fit with Chautona, it was pretty but not outlandish, and I chose Kelline because my mom loved the name Kelly!  (And probably would have called her that if I'd named her Brunhilda!  Can you blame her if it WAS Brunhilda?)

Little baby Challice grew... she learned to walk... she learned to read... she learned to tie a shoe and ride a bike.   She learned to love the Lord and was baptized.  She grew in stature (she's so much taller than her mumsie dear!) she grew in wisdom, she grew in favor with man and as His child, one can assume with God.  She married... and this October she will do the breathing, the groaning, and the nuzzling with an infant that her mother did nineteen years earlier.

God Bless You Challice.  I love you