On April 9, 1998, we had a beautiful little baby girl that we named Hannah Dorothy.  Hannah for no reason, Dorothy because it’s my mother’s name and my mother deserves to have a person with her name.

Not for nothing, but the labor was a piece of cake.  As far as labors go, I mean.

Instead of doing it naturally, like we had done with Ryan with disastrous results, we chose the epidural.  And so we went to the hospital and they gave Sandy the epidural, and then they turned on the television.  The movie Groundhog Day had just started, which was ironic, I guess.  We watched the movie.

When the movie ended, Sandy said “I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable.”  So we called the doctor, and he came to check things out.

And he said “Oh!  You’re ready to start pushing!”

Ten minutes later we had a baby.

18 hours of labor for Ryan, 3 hours for Hannah, and that’s how it’s been their whole lives.

She was beautiful, and we asked Rich to be the godfather, because nobody could raise our kids better than Rich could.  He fell in love immediately, and we’d sit together and laugh at my daughter’s huge ears, and at the fact that I actually had a daughter.

“You’re fucked, you know,” he’d say.

But she was beautiful, and still lights up my universe like nothing else ever could.  “I love you, Daddy” is my favorite song when it’s said by my little princess.

~ by Al on November 30, 2009.

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