It snowed the day after Laura was born. Nothing big, but enough to ground some planes at BWI airport. My father flew down to meet Laura that day. He could only spend a few hours with her before catching his flight home. It snowed the whole time he sat in our hospital room, holding that tiny bundle of newborn. He caught the last flight out of BWI before the airport closed that day.
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| February 3rd: Laura is 5 days old |
It snowed again a two days after Laura and I were sent home from the hospital. Again, nothing big, but enough to feel like Laura was really a snow baby.
A few days later, my dad and sister flew down to meet Laura, while my brother drove from Maine. "Make sure you pack snowboots!" my mother warned my down-east brother. He arrived - in a Subaru station wagon, no less - with a light jacket and dress shoes. He could have packed enough clothes to keep a small family warm for days, but he figured "I'm going to Maryland, and I'm from Maine. How much snow could they really be getting? I can manage." FEET of snow later, my brother was embarrassed to borrow a coat and gloves from Nate to go help dig us out.
Maryland was paralyzed by snow for most of the month of February last year - the first weeks we had Laura. We were completely trapped in a two-mile radius of our house. We could walk to the 7-11 for the neccessities (milk and ice cream, duh), but that was about it. And who am I kidding? I had just given birth to a 7lb 12oz baby. I wasn't walking to 7-11 for anything! I was trapped.
Despite the snow, I would have been trapped. I wasn't leaving the house for hardly anything. Nor did I want to. I had a beautiful baby to mother. In fact, I welcomed the snow. I loved having my husband, mother, father, sister and brother trapped with me. If it hadn't been for that snowstorm, I would have spent my first weeks at home with Laura in a much lonlier fashion.
Sometimes being trapped ain't all that bad. Happy birthday, Laura!
