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  • We planned this, although most people automatically assume that you were an "oops" baby. You were to be born at home, even though your two older brothers were delivered at hospitals. You were supposed to be an Emily, instead of an Ethan, according to "my gut" feeling. Ha, ha.

    The day arrived, and we rounded up the midwife, your maternal grandparents, my good friend Nancy, who was to keep watch over your brothers, and we prepared to birth you at home. The music was on, but things were not progressing. The midwife suggested I walk up and down the stairs to help move things along. Upon examination, the midwife determined that you were coming feet first. Ugh, you had been turning flip flops inside for the past month and a half already. Next thing we knew, your father had to get me to the nearest hospital.

    My water broke in the car on the way there. We had phoned ahead and they were scrambling at the hospital to get ready for us. We were quickly ushered in, the doctor came flying in shortly thereafter, the nurses were prepping this, that, and other things needed. There was NO time for a were on your way...feet first! The midwife was with us, for moral support. Sadly, she was not welcomed by the staff there. It was one hell of a delivery, let me tell you, but I did it, WE did it. They had to break your collar bone to help ease you out. We are, both of us, lucky to be alive. It was a very close call, and I believe that a divine presence was there that day for us. The doctors made no bones about telling me how they felt about our decision to have a home birth, some of the nurses as well. I could not move a muscle or I would have gone home right then and there to recuperate.

    The joy was that we both made it, and you, Ethan, are the apple of my eye. James is the Peach, Robert is the Plum. That was 19 years ago and I could not imagine my life without you.
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