The really impressive event happened on April 23rd. I showed up to work, as usual, despite feeling a bit under the weather. By about 9:00 I vaguely connected the sharp abdomen pain to the fact that I might possibly be starting labor. But I had 27 students in the room waiting for me to instruct them, and the labor probably was a false alarm anyway. So I just kept teaching. By lunch time I noticed regular contractions and visited with the nurse, who informed me I would be having a baby today or tomorrow. I didn’t really believe her. Everyone told me that labor was serious pain and if I could still function I was just calling wolf. So, on to fifth hour. My emotions were a bit all over the place; I’d overtly giggle one moment then lash out at a saucy student the next (he deserved it anyway…and I had a good excuse).
It wasn’t until about 2:00 that I finally admitted I was in real labor and told my neighboring teacher. She rather freaked, but I only had 30 minutes left in the day, so I thought I might as well finish it out. Now, this (my 37th week of pregnancy) had been a weird scheduling week where I didn’t get a plan period Monday or Tuesday. I was anticipating teaching through Friday before taking my maternity leave and had three 90 minute plan periods during the latter part of the week. Needless to say my lesson plans for the substitute were far from fruition. This latency left me curled up over my computer at the last bell, desperately typing up the next day’s agenda, and breaking frequently to wince and breathe. Nevertheless, plans were completed and printed before I left the room that day. I was even dumb enough to grab a stack of grading on my way out the door. (I really thought this was a false alarm still.)
The rest of the day was a rush and blur. My mother had booked her flight weeks earlier for the 23rd and threatened me that if I didn’t “lie down and cross [my] legs” until she got there, I’d never hear the end of it. And, she mentioned, in recompense for her leaving town on my dad’s birthday, I should probably have the baby before midnight, as a present for him. Mom arrived at our house around 8:00. My water broke at 9:00, we made it to the hospital twenty-two minutes later, and Eliza Louise Banks was born at 10:41 p.m. What can I say; I’m an obedient daughter…
She is wonderful and has blessed our lives immensely! 
Weeks following consisted of major partying with extended family along with major renovation of the basement. Kara, my sister who moved in with us in April to attend SLU’s nursing program, spent weeks painting and hanging molding. Jaron labored excessively over the drop ceiling. The carpet guys worked slowly one hot afternoon, and Dad contributed, once again, straining his legs and eyes cutting all the tedious angles and circles in the ceiling tiles. Extraneous finish work still stands incomplete. But, maybe now that Eliza and I have gotten used to each other, I’ll plenty of time to sit around and catch up all the odds and ends.
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