Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Apparently the male readership wasn’t sufficiently rebuffed with that last post. There is no way to tell how many male readers there are, but I will say that a solid 25% of the Contact Form users are male. And about 99% of them begin their note like this, “My wife reads your site, but…” What a cover.

So, I asked my husband, “Would you read my site if you weren’t married to me?” I did not think this was akin to asking, “Do you think I’m fat?” and apparently he didn’t either. He answered, “Well…noooo…probably not…but you are entertaining sometimes.” I decided not to ask right then if I looked fat in my last month of pregnancy too.

Since a few of you commented with your birth tales and delivery dates, I thought I’d take a minute to recount our Christmas baby’s story.

It was Christmas Eve, my due date, and some of the family had come over to eat take-out Chinese and open presents. Everyone left in the early evening for the Christmas Eve service. I stayed behind, having labor symptoms. My husband went as well, as he was the associate pastor at the time (and we didn’t cancel services whenever someone had a baby or, say, Sunday happened to be Christmas :eek_wp: ).

I wasn’t sure what to expect, being this was only Baby #2. She decided to wait for full-on labor until 8 p.m., the exact moment the Christmas Eve service had ended. The timing was so good that my husband didn’t believe me when I called. But he “came to” real quick after I said a few words.

We went to the hospital as soon as he came home. I was nearing transition, but labor stalled when we got there. (All my kids apparently know that a germ-filled hospital is not the greatest place to make their first appearance. So they just refuse. Every time!) This was a problem because my OB still had a bike to put together in his garage before Christmas morning. He was a nice guy and all, but looking back, pitocin and artificial rupture of membranes–ARM—probably wasn’t necessary. This would be my shortest labor by far, as anything under 12 hours would prove to be record time for me in the future.

She was born around 3:38 a.m. in just enough time for the good doc to make it home, put together a bike, and brew some strong coffee. My husband got his tax advantage for the year, I got breakfast in bed, and the world got a little more spice in it with the arrival of our girl. But that’s a story for another day.