Fifi

Some years ago, I read The Temperament God Gave You by Art Bennett, in an attempt to understand my husband and children a bit better.  Because, you know,  I have this completely unselfish goal of being a better wife and mother. 

Ahem.

So, of the four different temperaments addressed in the book (choleric, melancholic, phlegmatic, and sanguine), the only one I was able to truly recognize in any of my kids was "sanguine".  Not because I AM sanguine (good heavens, no--phlegmatic all the way here), but because a sanguine person is super cheerful and is crushed when those around him are not enjoying life to the fullest.

And THAT, my dear readers, is my Sophia Clare (a.k.a. "Fifi"). 

My labor and delivery of Sophia was the longest in Hollingshead History.  The nurse who admitted me when I arrived in labor went home soon after, only to return 16 hours later while I was about to start pushing.  I'm sure she was only trying to lighten the mood when she said "You're STILL here?"

I was so weak by the end that I was talking to Sophia, encouraging her, hoping that maybe she would just climb out on her own without any more pain and effort on my part. 

But here's the really beautiful thing about my 5th daughter:  she smiled at me almost immediately after she was born.  I'm not talking the cute, sleepy, gassy smile that you see newborns exhibit in their unconsciousness.  My Sophia Clare looked me right in the eye and grinned. 

And she's never stopped.

PJ

After having 4 girls in a row, our Philip John was much anticipated.  I was actually getting tired of pink everything and shrill giggles.  I'd forgotten that little boys have a much more guttural laugh when they see something exciting--like a backhoe.

So when we found out that I was carrying a boy, the cheer carried from the ultrasound room in San Antonio all the way to Virginia where Stephen was working at his new position under President G. W. Bush.

Philip decided to take his time, however, arriving 12 days over due.  I even visited the stork at the National Zoo on Maria's birthday to find out what was keeping him!  And then, I had about 48 hours of somewhat decent labor (I say "somewhat" because it kept me from getting any "decent" sleep during those 48 hours). 

When my OB visited me in the labor/delivery room after I'd been there for 8-10 hours, pacing zombie like through the halls, not progressing, he suggested an epidural, reassuring me that I wouldn't be the wimp I'd accused other moms of being who'd had them.  Yet another slice of humble pie for me....

I knew that once you go the epidural route, you can never go back.  I was so exhausted, that it really wasn't that hard to decide.  Once the epidural was in place and the pain of each contraction faded to nothing, I just started laughing.  You all know that punchy, embarrassing high pitch giggle.  Before I made a complete fool of myself, however, I closed my eyes and opened my mouth in order to catch an hour of flies.  Best hour nap I've ever had. 

The nurse came in to check my progress, and it's a good thing, because Philip would have been born without me even waking otherwise.  The nurse had to ask me not to laugh anymore, so they could get the OB back before my son fell out.

And while we were all glad to have a baby boy for a change, his older brothers discovered the down side: They would be expected to change more diapers now....

Builds character.