Inexplicably, an entire year has passed since Michael raced me to Swedish Medical Center for the delivery of Nola Faye Glisson Ortlieb. The final weeks of labor had been made excruciating by a pinched sciatic nerve — weeks in which even taking a few steps would draw stinging tears, and in which a waiting room filled with pregnant women witnessed me sobbing to an obstetric nurse, “GET THIS BABY OUTTA ME!!!!!” (Fortunately, they were spared the pained exhortations to my refusing-to-contract belly: “You’d better be worth all this! You’d better be the BEST BABY EVER!!”) So by the time Swedish cleared a spot for induction, I’d been looking forward to leaping into that hospital bed and squeezing seven-odd pounds of baby through my vadge like. . . well, like a kid looks forward to birthdays.
(She was worth all of it, and it turns out she is the best baby ever.)
Happy birthday, my Itty Bitty Kitty.
Party slideshow after the jump.