They're at it again...

The Duggar family just today announced they are having baby number 18. Eighteen. As in 10+8, 9x2. As in a baseball team AND a football team if you count mom and dad.

Wow.

Every time they announce another pregnancy, it always makes me think of when I had Preston. The night before his due date I was having severe pains. I had been having false labor for several days, so I wasn't sure what to make of it. His father said, "don't worry it's not labor, you're just psyching yourself out." Nevermind the fact that my water had broken...but we'll not go into all that...

The next day I had contractions every 15 minutes or so. Finally at 2:00 when they had increased to every 5 minutes or so, I told him, "Take me to the hospital RIGHT NOW!" He got mad because he was trying to nap before work that night. But I think I threatened his life so he promptly got up and took me to the hospital. I normally would never be so rude as to threaten the life of a fellow human, but women in labor cannot be held accountable for the things they utter.

I checked into the hospital right at 2:30. At 2:56 I had a beautiful baby boy. I think I pushed 4 times. Piece of cake. I stood up and started to walk to my recovery room. The nurse said, "oh no, honey, you ride in a wheelchair." I shrugged, "okay, but I'm fine, really."

Preston had some fluid in his lungs, so he had to stay in the hospital for a few days. They let me stay too so I could go to the nursery and see him anytime I wanted. In the middle of the night on the second night I couldn't sleep, so I got up and wandered down the hall to see my little man. On my way past the nurses' station one of the nurses said, "there's Wonder Woman." I laughed. She said, "I've told everyone how amazing your delivery was. In fact, you would have been the easiest delivery we had this week, but Mrs. Duggar was here today giving birth to number 12."

She's had 5 more since then and will now have another next January.

And I thought my life had been exciting since that fateful day in April 2000...

And for today's shoe...
My beat-to-death, scuffed, battered, bruised, worn down Adidas slippers.

Their story:
These babies, unattractive as they may be, saved my life while I was pregnant.

I didn't gain much weight during my pregnancy, only about 25 pounds. I had heard that women had a tendency to get cankles later in their pregnancies. I wasn't too worried about it though since I hadn't gained much weight at all. I made it 7 months and then one day I woke up and *BAM* there they were. Fat, nasty, bloated cankles.

When I got ready for work I tried on all my dress shoes. Nothing fit. I looked over at these and said, "I guess you're it, boys." I velcroed them across my disgustingly bloated feet and headed off to work.

Later that day my doctor took one look at my feet and said, "you've been eating chinese food, haven't you?"

I looked down at the floor like a scolded 3-year-old. "Yes."

"You have to stop."

"Or what?"

"Or the MSG will make you continue to swell."

"Okay."

I continued my daily diet of hunan broccoli chicken with egg drop soup (it's the only thing that didn't make me feel sick). I just ate it with my feet propped up on a pillow with ice packs on top of them. Problem solved...somewhat. The cankles were still there, just not quite as big as they were that first day. So I continued wearing my Adidas sandals and my boss just overlooked the blatant disregard of the dress code.

*stepping off my shoebox*
-Jenn