Ella Marie Rogers

It makes sense, doesn't it, that I blog about Ella on her birthday. She is, after all, an incredibly bloggable girl. And today she turns four years old.

It has been an amazing four years, full of funny sayings and lots of spoilage, because face it, the youngest child it going to get spoiled. (Right Esther?) None of my other children got to go out to eat as often as Ella does. None of the other children had as many stuffed animals. None of the other children got as much mommy time. (It certainly helps that all the other children are in school.)

Ella's story is simple and straight forward, rather like she is. I started having labor pains the night of Feb. 9, 2004. I knew I was in labor, I had done it three times before. David took me to the hospital. This is all making sense, right? The nurse checked me, told me I wasn't in labor, gave me a shot of morphine, "for the pain" (she was the pain), with the side effect that "the shot will stop your labor if it's not real" (pain, pain, pain), and sent me home.

Okay, whatever.

David took me home, and because of the shot, the morphine and phenergin combination is my favorite, I fell asleep before we were even out of the parking lot. I slept pretty comfortably all night long, being drugged enough to ignore the labor pains still coursing through my body.

At six in the morning of February 10, 2004, the drugs started wearing off and David took me back to the hospital. The nurse was very surprised to see me there. She checked me again, "I guess you were in labor!" DUH!!! and Ella was born before lunch service.



That's the end of the story. A child who knows what she wants and just does it. And so I have Ella. Aren't I the lucky one?