Christmas means many things to many people, but this time of year is important to me for a particular reason. It's the time of year I first met this little tyke. 13 years ago on Christmas night, I was in our local hospital, laboring to deliver her.
Roger works at this hospital, so I had been a little concerned that when the big day finally arrived, droves of his coworkers would be flocking into the delivery room to take a peek at what was going on between my legs. To make matters even more intense, I had chosen to go "no drugs" and "all natural" for the delivery, figuring it would truly be a rite of passage in my journey as a woman. (A choice that ensured this kid would never have a sibling.)
On Christmas Eve, I had played the piano for a church cantata with Songbird as the choir director - finishing up the night with a moving version of "Silent Night." At around midnight, I felt an intense pain. Feeling like I needed to pass gas, I kept waking up each hour, trying my best to relieve myself of the problem. The next morning, I frosted over 72 sugar cookies (the one holiday tradition in my family), all the while, feeling this overwhelming urge to PASS THAT GAS! Later in the evening, after spending the holiday at Roger's parents' house, we decided to go to the hospital. I technically wasn't due until January 14th, but the pains were about 5 minutes apart, so it was worth checking out.
Indeed, I was in labor, and fortunately the hospital was virtually empty. At 3:19AM on December 26th, I met the one person I KNEW was related to me. She was tiny, and it only took about 3 pushes to deliver her into the world. Weighing only 5 pounds, 10 ounces, Amber came into my life and changed everything, as well she should have.
Every Christmas, when I'm asked what I would like as a gift, I fumble for words. Because the greatest gift of all is having her in my life, and as long as I have that, I don't need anything else.