Easter Arrival

Easter Sunday – it started off like any other Easter Sunday. Coffee was set on automatic for the early morning reveille and plans were set to meet our good friends down at the Beach in Encinitas for a sunrise service to honor the day and what it stood for. The morning would be well-rewarded via the Easter brunch that awaited us ala party of 6 at the Karl Strauss in San Diego. A typical Murphy and Faye holiday, or so one would suspect, except for the all-nighter we’d pulled the night prior due in large part to the contractions of an increased rate (20 minutes, 15, 12, 8 and so on) – our little guy was ready to make his debut. It’s amazing how nature gives us such subtle and deliberate messages on cue and, in this case, with authority. The first pains came on Saturday afternoon, and then well into the evening hours. Were we ready?
Jeez, it had been over 38 weeks and counting and yet it seemed something was missing. Hospital bag was packed, nursery set, clothes washed with Dreft and all put away, and even the diaper bag was customized with our little buddy in mind, diapers, wipes, cream and all. That’s when paranoia set in – the first sign we perhaps we had prematurely patted ourselves on the back for “graduating” from the Intensive Childbirth Course” at the hospital like champs (see inset - see even a certificate to prove it), the Cadillac of all car seats (thanks to rock-star sister and turbo mom BreAnna) sat sadly in the box in our garage, quietly calling out: “install me, daddy.” Given that the pain in my gut was growing ever more intense and I had little room for patience at this point, I do believe my tone may have been not just fanatic, but passionately vulgar when (not kindly) requesting my husband to get off his ass and get the damn thing installed. To which he snapped to and got right on it, bless his heart, breaking out the instructions and installing it with all the love and cluelessness of a first-time dad. Rest assured, it’s secured as per California Highway Patrol standards and our little buddy was set up for success.
Ok, so now we’re ready. Off to the lovely morning service, noticing the contractions are now 3-5 minutes apart, we excused ourselves from the Easter feast and headed straight to the hospital instead, with one stop first. Our first born, Bailey, our loyal Golden Retriever had made the trip with us to the beach, and since dogs aren’t allowed in Labor and Delivery, we dumped the poor sap at home to guard the house while we were out. Upon checking in at Tri City Hospital, we were both calm and elated, so excited and emotional that we would be meeting our son so very soon. We had no idea what adventures lie ahead of us, but with wide eyes and eager hearts, we headed into triage and at “3 cm” we received our marching orders. Nearly 12 hours later, with some unmentionable details and after a crazy ride, our little Murph made his grand arrival. It was our happiest moment...