Most of us have memories of how we have spent a New Years Eve or two, but my memory is a bit more unique than the usual party night out and then watch football games on the 1st.
Back in 1987, I was expecting our son, who was due on 8 January 1988. I kind of hoped that he would make his appearance on Christmas Day, especially since the doctor estimated his weight at 7 lbs. or more just before Christmas. However, that was not to be.
My mother, Doris, had traveled from New Jersey to California for the holidays, but had booked her return flight for January 1. All I heard from the time she landed was, “You need to have that baby by the 31st because I want to meet my grandchild before I go back home.” Fine with me, but the baby had to cooperate!
Dave also wanted me to have the baby by the 31st, but for an entirely different reason – the TAX DEDUCTION! He also instructed me not to have the baby on January 1 because he didn’t want to miss the football games.
Well, New Year’s Eve day came and my mom and I spent the day walking around South Coast Plaza in Costa Mesa, CA. Everyone said walking a lot was good to get labor started. We window shopped, sat and watched the shoppers and walked some more. We had a light lunch and headed home.
As evening got closer, I was starting to hope that the baby waited another day to come, as he was supposed to be born at Loma Linda Medical Center, about 25 miles from our house. The last place I wanted to be on New Year’s Eve was on a California freeway with everyone who had been out celebrating that night. All was quiet, though, and instead of ringing in 1988 at midnight, I went to sleep early. Guess it was all that walking around I had done!
Then, it happened. I looked at the clock and it was 1:30 a.m. on New Year’s Day. My water had broken and labor started. I woke Dave up and told him it was time to head to the hospital. His response was – we’ll go in the morning!!! Well, that didn’t happen.
Next thing I knew, we were right where I didn’t want to be that evening – on the freeway making the 25 mile trip to the hospital. I have no memory of the traffic around us – Dave says there were a lot of cars considering the hour – but we made it to the hospital.
All went well and baby Michael was born at 11:42 a.m. The hospital was short of mothers in labor that day and he was actually the first baby born there in 1988, even though he didn’t make an appearance until almost noon. He got an adorable little outfit, which I have kept all these years:
Everything worked out fine in the end – well, almost everything. The trip to the hospital was uneventful. Grandma talked to some kind airline agent who let her change her reservation to two days later at no extra cost and I was happy that Michael came a week early after all. Dave was thrilled that our son was healthy and happy, but he lost out on both directives that he had given me about not having the baby on January 1. There would be no tax deduction for 1987 and he was too tired after being up all night to watch the New Year’s Day football games!
It’s hard to believe that this happened twenty-seven years ago, but today I want to wish my son Michael a very happy birthday. Love, Mom