You see, the plan was that Caitlin, Kevin and the kids would come in on the 19th, them along with the rest of our kids would attend a Winter Ball on the 20th and then we would all get up on the 21st and head to New Orleans for a few days of fun...and a baby...that was supposed to arrive on the 22nd. HOWEVER...I got a call on the 9th (Fat Tuesday) that Codi was beginning to have a few pains. They had actually cancelled their doctor's appointment that week because of Fat Tuesday. Because the traffic by the hospital would be TERRIBLE due to the big parade that day. And so when I got the call they told me they were just "waiting and seeing"...
After a long day and taking my mother to lunch and out shopping and then back home I got another call around 7 p.m. "Mom, I think we're going to go to the hospital because the pains haven't stopped". OK, I should also mention that Hubby had returned home from an out of town meeting, jumped in a truck with two other guys and headed south to fish overnight. Yep. So, I told them to keep me informed and I would pack a suitcase.
At 8 p.m. I received another call where I learned that Codi was on a monitor and most likely would be kept overnight. I asked if I needed to come because it was going to take me 3 hours to get there. And I would have to call someone to ride with me. "Just hold on for a little while and I'll call you back", I was told. Did I mention that I was beginning to really get tired? I decided to finish watching the final season of "Lost" while I waited...(By the way, I'm so sad it's over)
By 10 p.m. I called David back and asked for an update. It was decided that I would wait until the next morning and head that way. I called my in-laws and they agreed to pack a bag and travel to New Orleans with me the next day. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well that night anyway. Every time I stirred, I looked at my phone and sent a text message to see how things were going.
Tanked up on coffee the next morning, we headed out early, hoping to make it there in time for the birth. When we were about 30 minutes out, I called and learned that things were progressing pretty quickly and I said, "Just hang on...I'll come straight to the hospital!" It wasn't 5 minutes after I hung up that I heard my text message go off with this...
Mr. Grayson decided to deliver himself before the doctor even arrived! 2 weeks early, weighing in at 6 lbs., 3 and 18 inches long.
Daddy and Grayson
YaYa with Number 7. It's amazing how much love can fill one heart. Just as much love for Number 7 as for 1-6...and any future Grands.
Poppy finally made it in at 11 p.m. and got to meet his newest grandson the next morning.
Mommy and Grayson settled in at home.
Welcome to the world, little Grayson. We are so in love with you and so happy that you are part of our BIG, FAT SOUTHERN FAMILY!
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