The Story Behind Robert's Story...

If you're following my blog, you know that I'm in the process of acquainting you with my children, who in turn blessed Robbie and me with the five adorable sweeties on the swingset. Well, you know about Josh and Lauren. Honestly, Robbie and I thought we were through having children. To be even more truthful, we didn't plan those either! But with one boy and one girl, we figured we were ready to call it quits. So I went back to school to finish my teaching degree.

That is a story in itself. We had a hard time getting back on our feet after the job loss and house burning incident. I ended up working two jobs -- one in the sewing factory and the other at a convenience store owned by my aunt and uncle. I was so grateful for both jobs, but I was tired. I was at work every morning by 6:00. At 4:00 I left the factory and went to the store. After brushing the tremendous amount of thread off my clothes, I went to work until about 10:00 P.M. On weekends, work was often all day.

And then one night I was mopping -- the final job before closing up completely. The mop was huge and heavy. The water was quickly becoming dirty. As I scrubbed at the spilled coke and dirty footprints, a thought as clear as a bell came to me: This is not what I'm supposed to be doing. And that was that. I stopped mopping and called Robbie. We decided together that I would go back to school in August to finish my degree. My life's dream was to teach English to high school children. I turned in my notice and set about applying for grants, loans, and scholarships. In August, I began classes at Auburn University Montgomery. My schedule was perfect -- the exact number of classes I needed per quarter and the exact number of quarters I needed to finish by the next summer. Relieved with how well my life was going, I got up on the first morning of school and drank a glass of water. And I knew.

A quick trip by the doctor's office confirmed the feeling. We would be having another baby! No problem, at least not in my mind. That is, until I told my advisor and learned that there were no sick days for spring interns. Time off for the baby would mean I would not get the credit, and there was no way to intern in the summer. I am proud to say that I held myself together in a most admirable way until I got inside the Dean of Education's office and closed the door. God only knows what she thought then. I dissolved into hysterical sobs, punctuated only occassionally by words like "having a baby" and "need to finish" and "you've got to help me." Bless her heart.

In an attempt to offset any suicidal or murderous thoughts I might have, she put me in every class I needed in order to intern in the winter. I ended up with 40 hours, classes Monday-Thursday from 8 A.M. until 10 P.M., Friday workshops, and 7 research papers to write.  Bless her heart.

I did it though--with a lot of help from my family. When Thanksgiving came and the quarter was over, I went to sleep and I didn't wake up until New Year's Day. Honestly, that is the only Christmas of my life that I don't remember. I don't know what Josh and Lauren got for Christmas or how they got it. I just remember how tired I was.

And then it was January and time to teach. My supervising teacher was wonderful and the kids were so sweet and enthusiastic. I did not miss a single day. There were a lot of "ups" in my student teaching experience. My kids were curious about my growing belly, and often lectures were interrupted by, "Whoa, look at that!" as Robert made himself comfortable. There were a lot of "downs," too. One of my students quit school because I didn't allow him to sleep in class. Another committed suicide on Valentine's Day -- shot himself in the chest with a shotgun because his girlfriend and mother did not get along. He was in the tenth grade --just a baby, really. Somebody else's baby. I like to think God arranged that student teaching assignment just for me. Because of those students, I went into teaching armed with experience that those who have taught far longer than I do not have, and that has helped me be a better teacher.

On the last day of class, my students threw me a party, giving me a journal they had all written in (I cherish that book more than I can tell you) and an baby outfit for their "classmate." I promised to bring him back for them to see, and I left that classroom for the last time. The next morning, I went to take my Teachers' Exit Exam.

I walked into the classroom at Troy Montgomery and thought, "Wow, they didn't expect pregnant people to take this test." I eased myself sideways into a little desk, and was promptly reprimanded by the test proctor that I would have to face the front. Smirks and giggles all around. Deep sigh and humiliation from me as the proctor and two other test takers went to find a table and chair that could be placed in the front of the room, thereby assuring that I would not cheat. And I didn't. That was on Saturday. I started class on Tuesday.

And once again, my intentions were questioned. A required class for my degree was offered only that quarter. Advanced Expository Writing. Sounds evil, doesn't it? But I was excited. I loved to read and write, and I knew I could do well. I was thrilled to find that the room was outfitted with tables instead of desks and excitedly took my seat at the front of the room. The teacher, known as the Dragon Lady by her former students began class. Expecting a syllabus and maybe an in-class writing assignment, I was stunned to find her staring at me and asking (with quite the sneer) "What are YOU doing here?" Just like that -- "What are YOU doing here?" (Nore the emphasis on YOU.) Thinking she had me confused with a former, perhaps lackluster student, I explained that I had to have the class to graduate. "WHEN are you DUE?" When I told her I was due on Thursday, she paused only briefly before looking straight at me and announcing that absolutely NO late papers were accepted -- and she had better not have anybody making up any medical reasons for not having papers in on time.

Well, you can see where this is going, can't you? Sure enough, on Thursday, in HER class, I felt funny. I tried to put it off for awhile, but finally called my doctor during a break. After promising to come by after class, I settled back into my chair. But something just wasn't right. I had not slept well the night before, but I was more than tired. Finally, I knew I had no choice. As inconspicuously as possible, I gathered my belongings. Really, I thought I had made it. And then, just as I reached the door, her voice rang out (I would say SPAT out, but I don't want to seem negative) -- "And just where do you think you're going?" "To the hospital." "For what?" "To have the baby." "Right. Just remember your autobiography is due tomorrow."

So I went. Don't get all dreamy and think my doctor's visit was a comforting experience. Dr. Duggar said, right off the bat, "You know you're not in labor. You were just here Monday and nothing was going on." Silence. "I'll have to check, though." Silence. "My best guess is that you need to go home, get your things together, and plan to come back over the weekend." Silence. "My God, how long have you been having contractions! You're five centimeters dialated! Call Robbie and tell him you're going to the hospital!" So I did.

But I couldn't get Robbie. He had worked all night in the grocery store and all day on the tractor. So I called Mama, who went to get Robbie. She told me later that she prayed all the way to the hospital, but did not dare look at the speedometer. Not long after Robbie got there, only to be assured by the doctor that we most likely would not have a baby until sometime the next morning, a student nurse came in to go through a "preview" of the epidural procedure. A student myself, I did not mind the training. Truly. But as I lay back on the bed I felt the most overwhelming need to sit up. When Dr. Duggar asked what was wrong, I told him I was having a baby. With the look that most people save for people who have lost their mind and do not know it, he said, "I know, and everything is going to be fine." I began to sit back up, and that's when business picked up: Robert started to cry, Robbie jumped up out of his chair, Dr. Duggar snatched the cover back, and the nurse cried, "What in the world?" To which I said, "I told you I was having a baby!"

Now that you know the background, I'll tell you all about Robert in my next post.