13

Today is Spanky's 13th birthday. There is no possible way that this can be true, and yet that's what the calendar tells me.

For those who don't know the story, I had a seizure when I was 35 weeks pregnant with Spanky. Never had one before, but boy did I do it right the first time. I went into labor. When we got to the hospital (I was at work, and they weren't exceptionally bright people, so it took a few minutes) I had another seizure...and we both stopped breathing. We almost died.

After an emergency C-section, I spent the next 2 days in la-la land. When I woke up, I didn't even remember being pregnant (it came back to me after they told me I had a baby). Spanky spent a week in neonatal ICU. It was a rough week. Poor SuperHubby had to deal with all that and family too.

So this year, as I wallow in self-pity over how old I must be to have a 13-year-old, I have to thank God that He saved us. I tried saving some pix but apparently I'm not smart enough to make my computer work; sevearal weeks ago I screwed it up and things haven't been the same with posting since.

Anyway, happy birthday Spanky. I will show off your baby pictures another day.