Something magical about December

I know, I know, gentle reader, why in the midst of the dog days of August would I write about the cold of December?

As you have already surmised, there is a story behind it.

As I write this on Wednesday, I am awaiting word from my oldest daughter and her husband to see if our first grandchild is on the way. The due date is a week away, August 16, but the contractions have been more frequent and more intense today. An appointment with the doctor will either confirm the imminent arrival or we will wait.

Both of our children were born in August. Lindsay on the 14th, due on the 5th and Madison on the 5th, due on the 14th. Yes, it is strange but that is the wondrous adventure that is having a child.

The birth of our first grandchild (the first for our son-in-law's family as well) is a much anticipated event as well. We have held the baby showers and Lindsay and Thomas have found the proper clothing and furniture and have prepared their "nest" in their apartment in Minnetonka. Everything is prepared (as much as anyone can) and we await the arrival.

Having a child is a watershed event in every parent's life. The affect it has on your life is as unique as the child itself. For me, after being alongside my wife for over 12 hours of labor with Lindsay, the moment I was allowed to hold her, a wave of consciousness struck me and I realized what my purpose in life was.

I'm sure every one of you has had a similar experience.

I can recall quite vividly (my wife even more so) how hot the summer of 1983 was. I was working for the Des Moines Register in circulation and had a down route, which means I had to deliver it. On a Saturday morning, my wife and I delivered the route, went to Perkins for pancakes, returned to our apartment and her water broke. We went to the hospital and early Sunday morning, after many, many contractions, Lindsay was born.

Six years later, my wife and I owned the Anthon, Correctionville and Kingsley papers and we were living in my wife's hometown of Hornick. We had a nasty tree in the back yard that I had an altercation with, scratching my face deeply. When it was time for Madison to be born, we headed off to the hospital and my scratched face was the subject of discussion and more than a few strange looks from doctors and nurses.

Madison did not want to settle in the birth canal, and after many hours of doing summersaults in her mother's womb, the doctor decided that it was time for her to come out. She was born Caesarian, and I was there for the procedure. There was no way I was going to let my wife go through that rather terrifying experience alone. It's amazing how quickly a team can bring a baby out.

As a sign of how quickly things change, I have just received a call from my wife who has heard from our daughter. It's not quite time yet, but should be within the week.

Earlier this summer when we were visiting, we all made guesses as to when the baby would be born. I chose August 13, the date that Lindsay might have been born.

I'm sticking with that date, but I know it doesn't really matter when she is born. Like so many parents before me and after me, as long as the baby is healthy with 10 fingers and 10 toes, it's all good.

For those of you who haven't figured out the December connection, start counting out the months, beginning with December. There you have it. It seemed to be a magical time for my family.

So, we will wait and see. It seems to be harder this time.

As always, I welcome your comments. You can reach me by email at tstangl@lemarscomm.net, telephone 712-546-7031, x40 or toll free 1-800-728-0066 x40.

Thanks for reading, I'll keep in touch. Feel free to do the same.