The day before Casey was born, I had my regular Doctor's appointment.  He told me that nothing was shaking and he would surely see me next week.  I left the office, got on the elevator and started having pains but since he told me she/I were not ready, I called on my vast research and came up with false labor pains which you just have to ride through.  Overnight, the pains became excruciating and I was up with them pretty much all night.  In those days, Michael was a groom for a horse trainer and he used to leave at 4 am for work.  He asked if he should stay home from work, but I told him I was in false labor so go ahead to work. 

By around 7 a.m. I was actually really cutting it close and still not realizing it.  I finally called the Doctor, he asked a few questions, and found that I was having pains 3 minutes apart and told me to leave immediately for the hospital.  Michael was too far away at Belmont Racetrack, my Mom was at work, so I called Casey’s Uncle Tommy.  (He was about twenty or so at the time.)  By the time we were on our way, I was in hard labor and I swear she was almost born in his car.  He was trying so hard to be cool and get us there as fast as humanly possible and I was writhing in pain in the passenger seat.  He used to wear these pooka beads and I kept reaching over and grabbing them and twisting them, practically choking him while he was trying to drive. 

When we got to the hospital, I was rushed into the labor room. I was supposed to have some sort of epidural shot but they informed me there was no time and we were going straight to the delivery room.  Then asked me if a group of nursing students could come in to observe the delivery and I told them at that point I didn't care if the UCLA marching band was in there, I just wanted this to be over. 

On the way to the delivery room, there was this sort of collective "Whoa" from the nurses as she was almost born in the hall.  Once in there, she was born within minutes and all was well. 

Meanwhile, Nana had called Michael, who came racing (excuse the pun) in from Belmont.  He had all the paychecks with him for the employees at the barn and he left in such a hurry that he took everyone's money with him. Needless to say, he was a pretty unpopular man at work that day.  At the hospital, he sees Nana and Tommy go running by, so he just jumped up and ran on after them.  One of the nurses said to Nana, “Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby granddaughter.”  Michael stopped dead in his tracks and said, " I have a girl?"  They say it was so cute. 

Later that day, while I was recuperating and Casey was lounging in the nursery, an outcry went up in the halls.  People were ringing their hands, some were crying, and everyone was wailing that the King was dead!  Elvis Presley died that day.  I could have cared less-- the King may have been dead, but the Queen had been born.

The next day, one of the student nurses who had witnessed the delivery came in to see me.  She was still in awe of how amazing it all was and wanted to thank me for letting her be there.  So there is someone out there in the world who will never forget Casey and her birth--besides us. 

Also that day, Michael came in to visit all excited and announced that he had quit his job that day.  He had been training a horse or two on the side and finally felt he was ready to be self-employed and try this training thing full time.  I’m sitting in bed with a brand new baby and a 3 year old at home trying to figure out why quitting his job was a GOOD thing.

When we brought Casey home, she practically did not sleep for a full nine months and neither did we.  No one could figure out why she was always awake and crying.  The Doctor thought she must be colicky.  We tried everything from modern drugs to things I think the native Americans did in teepees.  All to no avail.  I rocked her until there were grooves in the apartment floor under the rocking chair.  But that all miraculously ended after 9 months and then she was fine.