Thursday, January 21, 2016

Happy 35th Birthday Kindra!

Exactly 35 years ago this morning, I decided it was imperative that I get to the hospital.  I was having mild, fairly regular pains, but was not in hard labor.  A wonderful neighbor took our two young daughters as per our plan “B”—more on that later.  We threw my already packed bag in the car and began the approximately 16 mile journey from our home in Carrollton, Texas to the Medical City hospital in Dallas.  It was about 8:30 AM, the height of rush hour traffic.  As we drove, my labor pains became a bit more intense and frequent.  I was not in hard labor, but just felt that I really needed to get to the hospital.  In his anxiety, my husband Jerry missed the Coit Road exit from the LBJ Freeway which we planned to take if traffic was bad.  We exited onto North Central Expressway, which was anything but “express” during rush hour.  Not to worry, we were in a small compact car and Jerry was a very skilled driver.  At least once he drove on the shoulder of the expressway to the irritated honking of many other drivers. 

We arrived at the hospital and were admitted to Labor and delivery.  Jerry checked me in and started to leave the room to go back to the car for my suitcase.  “You are not going anywhere,” said the nurse, “this baby is coming.”  About this time, my labor, which still had not been too intense, stopped.  We waited in eager anticipation for it to start back up.  Finally, the doctor ordered the hormone Pitocin to start my labor again.

My mother was flying in that day from her home in Utah to be there and take care of Camie and Alyssa (our two young daughters) when it was time for us to leave for the hospital. That was our plan “A.”   We were worried about Mom, who was a nervous traveler anyway, arriving at the airport with no one to pick her up.  This was well before cell phones.  We were talking over who we could get to pick her up, when, my labor started back up.  The nurse explained that there hadn’t been time for the Pitocin to kick in so it had started back up on its own.  With one hard labor pain, she was there--our third daughter!  

January 21st also happens to be Jerry's brother Ken's birthday.On our way to the hospital, we had been discussing whether or not to name the baby "Kenneth" if it turned out to be a boy. We had a couple of different names chosen which I cannot recall now.  I think we arrived at the hospital thinking we would name "him" after his uncle.  When "he" turned out to be another "she," I suggested the name “Kendra.”  Jerry was concerned that she would be nicknamed “Ken” by the other children at school.  I recalled a cute little girl I had taught a few years earlier in my Sunbeam class (the class in our church for three-year-old children).  This child’s name was “Kindra.”  We decided to name our new baby after her uncle with a slight twist.

Kindra was a very beautiful baby.  She had enormous dark blue eyes (which later became a bright blue) and black hair. Sisters included, we were delighted to welcome her into the family. 

Happy 35th birthday Kindra!  You have brought joy into our lives!