She was due on the 24th of June, 2003. But on the night of 5th June, at about 10:30 pm, my waters broke and the rest is history.
When she was eventually born at 4pm the next afternoon, by c-section the OB turned her nether regions to Mike who was supposed to be hiding behind the blue sheet from the gore but had stood up at the last minute because, really, how often do you get to see your baby be born.
He said, "Becca...we've got a little girl". I couldn't see her, but I could see him, and I'll never forget the expression on his face.
When she was put into my arms, all purple and swollen and cranky, I was more confused and exhausted than overwhelmed with love. And then I started to hemorrhage (sp?) or something so things went a little blurry for a while. Next thing I knew I was in recovery talking the ears off the nurses cause I was the only patient awake, everyone else was out to it, with general anaesthetic, cause they'd had, like, real operations.
I mean, why would you EVER stay awake during surgery if it wasn't for the fact they were pulling a brand new person out of you? No way Jose. Hence, everyone else was nigh nighs and I got to give the nurses an earful for an hour. By which time I was gagging to see my family.
And over the next few days, she became like a drug. I craved her. Have done ever since.
Since there, she has (in no particular order), blown my mind, scared me senseless, driven me mad, stolen my heart, made me laugh, made me cry, taught me patience (sort of), filled me with pride and changed mine and Mikes lives in ways we never could have imagined.
All good, all very good.
On Wednesday I hope we make her feel as special and loved as she is. Which is bazillions.