On August 20, 2006 at about 820p we arrived home from about ten days or so at the beach. We’d had a glorious time. No place is greater than a coastal place in my opinion. I was fat and sassy and happy. Literally fat and sassy and happy. I was 10 days from my due date with another baby. I was fat. It was late in the evening after a long drive home in an over-loaded vehicle. I was sassy. I was tan and beachy. I was happy.

It was late, 830p, and I had to get kids settled before I did anything else. I went downstairs to get a pull-up from the supplies (since the others were packed somewhere in the truck) and before I made it down, CRUNCH.

I bent over on the next to last step to pick up the current wee-est one and as I bent over, I lost my center of balance and in an effort not to squash the wee-est one, well, I broke my leg. Splintered it, actually. Three days later on August 23rd, I had surgery to place a plate and 8 screws in the leg. Still no baby…

Ten days passed. The due date came and passed. Fortunately, all of our children had previously been born at home so due dates meant very little to me.

Then, about midnight between September 7 and September 8, I felt like it was time. I remember sending an email to my BFF and telling her I think it is time… She was also expecting and we were pretty much on the same schedule so it was doubly exciting!

With a very broken leg and a full cast and a very full belly, I’d been in a wheelchair. My lower kitchen cabinets have never been as clean since! But sitting in a wheelchair is not conducive to laboring. I moved onto crutches. I creeped all over our silent home. I showered with my leg hanging out the door. I lumped onto the floor in the fetal position hoping to open up. Then I called our midwives.

What happens from there is so sweet. We were doing everything we could not to wake the other children. And we didn’t until about 6a. And they’d come into the bathroom and check on me. I let them see me hurt. That’s a good thing. I was in the jacuzzi tub for an hour at a time because that’s all the time I could wear the swimming cover on the cast. The water felt so good. All of the children were born in the water.

Around 715ish or so I knew it was time for the baby to really come into the world. But I wasn’t in the tub! It didn’t stop me. I just stood up to move that way. I had completely forgotten I had a broken leg. Husband caught me. He always catches me. Literally and  metaphorically. He helped me into the tub, and then in just a few more minutes, Laura Lea was born.

I was settled into bed and the other children joined us.

And Laura Lea became a part of our world.

And today she is four. Our last fourth. That we know of anyway. Our last fourth. That’s what Husband said. Our last fourth.
Happy Birthday, Laura Lea. We love you.

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