Fifteen years ago Sacha was born three weeks early.
French husband, Chelsea, our Great Aunt and I, had spent the day picking strawberries in the forest, and late that evening, after dinner at French husband’s Aunt’s house, I went into labor.
I won’t tell you about the wild speed racer ride to the hospital. Nor about being lost, and going around, and around the round abouts, with the contractions coming fast and steady. I won’t tell you how when I gave birth to Chelsea I was out of my mind with pain, and begged French Husband for drugs or better yet for a truck to run over me.
But I will say that during labor with Sacha, I asked French husband to sing that I could focus on his voice. He started to hum a song, one that was unusal and old fashion and as my mind tried to figure out what he was singing I forgot about being in labor … "DR. ZHIVAGO? Are you singing Dr. ZHIVAGO?" We both cracked up laughing, my water broke and Sacha was on his way.
Photo: Sacha at 8 months. Happy Fifteen Birthday Boy-Boy!
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