I remember, vividly, every little detail about my hospital stay when I had Savannah.
I remember lying in the bed and counting ceiling tiles as a way to take my mind off of the piggy-back contractions that I was trying to wriggle away from, of falling asleep on the big bouncy ball and having my husband catch me, of almost relenting and begging for an epidural after 14 hours of labor. (Call me crazy, but the thought of a needle IN. MY. SPINE. was worse than just dealing with the pain. I might change my mind if I ever do it again, though. I hear it's just lovely.)
But then all of the torturous pain subsided, and they placed her in my arms. At that point my hospital stay took a decided turn for the better. They wheeled me into my recovery room, and I felt a little like a queen. Completely exhausted and battered, true, but a queen nontheless, with the hospital room my little mini palace. Replete with a hubby to wait on me, nurses at my beck and call, and...cable TV. It was virtually a vacation.
Even the food! I have to tell you, my hopes were certainly not very high. But then they brought me the menu, and I immediately fixated on the steak sandwich as an option. I was won over. It was good, too, and...topped with an onion ring, oh yes, ma'am.
So, all of these memories came back to me today. I stepped into the same hospital to go say hello to a brand new little fellow, a precious baby boy belonging to my best friend Tara.
Come to find out, they have stepped up their amenities even further. They now give massages to mommies, and they are going to offer manicures and pedicures, too. For free.
I'm telling you. Vacation. Almost.
Take a look at this sweet little face and tell me it doesn't melt your heart.
Happy Birthday, Baby Boy. I'm in love.