Benjamin Marcel Rogers

Happy Birthday!

Ten years ago this very day, at about 2:00 in the morning, Benjamin Marcel Rogers made his very first appearance. It actually started two days earlier...




Friday, Feb. 6, am. I began having labor pains. Not really bad ones, but regular enough that I thought I should go into the hospital and get checked. David took me in, the nurse checked me...nope. Not enough to stay, so they sent me home.

Friday, Feb. 6, pm. No labor pains, just bleeding. I went to the hospital, they observed me for an hour, got me to calm down and sent me home.

Saturday, Feb. 7, am. I wasn't feeling too good, but the pains I was having weren't close enough together, or regular enough for that matter to be labor. I taught lessons. I timed my contractions. Breathing with voice students is a great way to get through pains. I took a nap, the pains stopped.




Saturday, Feb. 7, pm. David, Sarah and I had dinner at Grandma Rogers house. Apparently, she knew more about labor than I did, because she watched me all through dinner and was convinced that I was in labor. I still wouldn't believe it. After all, contractions are supposed to get regular and closer together. All day long, I'd been having contractions, rather painful ones, but never closer than 10 minutes together, and never regular at all. 10 minutes, 12 minutes, 25 minutes, 15 minutes, even one stretch that lasted 2 hours. This is no way to labor.

Saturday, Feb. 7, late!! I'm home again, and trying to go to sleep, but the pain just won't leave me alone. David is trying to convince me to go to the hospital and I won't. "I will not go three times in two days!" This is my battle cry. But soon, the pain is more than I can bear, and I'm crying for real. David calls the nurses station and they tell him, "If she's in that much pain, you'd better bring her in."

Saturday, Feb. 7, EVEN LATER!! David takes me to the hospital, I'm having contractions the entire time, but never closer than 10 minutes...still. That is, until we arrive in the hospital parking lot. 10 minutes, 12 minutes, 12 minutes, 10 minutes...2 minutes, 2 minutes...I can barely walk into the building. The nurse checks me and I'm positive she's going to tell me it's all in my head and send me home but, no! I'm an 8! I say, "Does this mean I can stay?" And then I burst into tears.

Sunday, Feb. 8, somewhere around 2:00 a.m. Benjamin Marcel Rogers was born.

Of course I've left out a lot of gory details...I thought there was sufficient gore as it is. The point is, I've got a great kid! And I've had him for ten years this very day!