birth story

Bring on the rain!

I have a thing for old movies. Forget the remakes of recent years, I love the originals.

White Christmas is by far my all-time favorite movie. I’m sure I’ll blog about it at some point. But there’s another movie I should tell you about: The Rainmaker.

So here’s the background, in case you don’t enjoy “vintage movies” (via Wikipedia):

“During the Depression era in the Midwest, con man Bill Starbuck acts as a rainmaker, but is chased out of town after town. One day, he arrives in a drought-ridden rural town in Kansas and showed up at the door of spinsterish Lizzie Curry and the rest of the Curry clan. Lizzie keeps house for her father, H.C., and two brothers on the family cattle ranch. As their farm languishes under the devastating drought, Lizzie’s family worries about her marriage prospects more than about their dying cattle. Prior to Starbuck’s arrival, Lizzie was expecting Sheriff File, for whom she harbors a secret yen, though he declined the family’s invitation to dinner. Starbuck promises to bring rain in exchange for $100. Against Lizzie’s protests, H.C. goes for the deal out of desperation for rain even though he thinks Starbuck is a con.”

Why am I telling you this, you ask?

Because Super Dad and I have a thing for major life experiences and weather. We’re a little like the real-life Bill Starbuck – combo package.

What I mean is: The National Weather Service and the Red Cross should be nervous when we have anything significant happen in our lives. I bet if you made a scatter plot, you’d find a correlation between insane weather and every major life event since we’ve been married. Let’s take a look at the data.

Case Study 1: Our honeymoon

Getting married is considered a major life event – that is, unless you’re Britney Spears and the year is 2004.

But for us, I said “I do” to the love of my life, and we started this crazy, fun and sometimes dramatic journey.

I handled the wedding plans for the most part (go figure), so I left it up to my love to plan the honeymoon. About two weeks before wedding he said, “I think I should tell you where we’re going so you know what to pack.”


The beaches. The sun. The hiking. The whale watching.

We were going to do it all.

But Mother Nature had other plans.

According to this article, “Nearly 92 inches — or about 7 1/2 feet — of rain were recorded during March at Mount Waialeale, considered the rainiest spot on the planet. The previous record was about 90 inches in April 1971, according to the National Weather Service.

Even the normally dry Honolulu Airport received more rain in the first three months of 2006 than in all of 2005.

The near-biblical downfall left the islands disheveled with debris, flooded homes, and led to a sewage spill in the water off Waikiki.

The largest toll was taken on Kauai, where seven died when a century-old earthen dam strained by the heavy rains burst March 14 sending a wall of water crashing through homes to the sea.

Last week, a sewer line broke when it was overwhelmed by heavy rain and sent some 48 million gallons of raw sewage into the ocean.”

Anyone want to guess which islands our honeymoon consisted of? Honolulu and Kauai.

At dinner one night, we met a man who lived his entire life on the island of Kauai. He told us, “In the last 90 years, this is the first time I’ve ever seen lightning.”

You’re welcome, Hawaii. I blame us.

So we still did the beaches, the sun, the hiking, the whale watching, and a somewhat life-shortening helicopter ride. And we had a blast – minus the part where our helicopter almost dropped out of the sky.

And since we had just gotten married, we didn’t even realize this would be “our thing.”


Case Study 2: Every other vacation for years

We went to Europe, New York, California, Florida, North Carolina… Every where we traveled to, rain followed.

And by rain, I mean torrential downpour and/or hurricanes.

Then, we started to notice a trend.


Case Study 3: The birth of K

Let’s just say it was called the “Snowpacalypse” and the Super Bowl sucked. For the full labor-inducing story, go here.


Case Study 3: The birth of M

I know you’re thinking, “You had a baby in a ‘Snowpacalypse’. Surely the next time was drama-free.” You are wrong, my friend. This one was called “Icemageddon.” And you can read the whole shindig here.


Case study 4: We built a house

We were ready for a real commitment, and the next level of home ownership: We decided to build a house.

And this happened:

When we moved in, we had the “fourth highest snow total for the month of March in Dallas-Fort Worth area, with 3.4 inches recorded at Dallas-Fort Worth International airport; another tenth of an inch was recorded early Thursday morning, putting the official total at 3.5 inches.”

Sigh. I can’t even make this stuff up.

So, if you need freakish weather, call us.

Snow on a hill in our backyard. There may be sledding in our immediate future.
Snow on a hill in our backyard the weekend we moved in.

It’s “Icemageddon.” Must be the perfect time to have another child.

You know how parents always hold over their kids heads, “we walked barefoot in the snow, uphill both ways, to have you.” Well, we did. Twice.

Side note: If we ever decided to have a third kid, we would definitely not have another winter baby. I hope.

It was December, well before we usually see a first freeze in North Texas.

Then it happened. Again.

“Earlier this week, many in Texas were basking in spring-like temperatures that hit the 80s,” said an article on Yahoo! “But by Thursday, Texas was facing the same wintry blast that has slammed much of the U.S., bringing frigid temperatures, ice and snow.”

At least this time, we knew she’d be coming in the Icemageddon. (Snowpacalypse had already been taken, so North Texas chose the next best option.)

We sent our oldest to my parents and prepped them that like K, she would probably make a similar appearance.

And she did, but this time with as much flair and drama that she brings in her toddlerhood.

I started having some early labor pains and frantically began shooting off last minute projects, emails and nonsense for staff in my soon-to-be-absence.

Shortly after I went into labor, we just headed to the hospital. We knew better. It was early, we knew, but we weren’t getting stuck.

After several hours of almost nothing, my doctor sent us back home, on the ice.

We shouldn’t have listened, but a shower and a nap sounded nice.

Within 15 minutes of being home, my water broke and I quickly jumped from active labor to transitional labor (the part at the very end that really sucks without an epidural. For my friends who did it without drugs, I salute you).

We barely made it to the hospital. I fell out of the car and was carried in by Super Dad and another random guy (I didn’t get a chance to ask his name or thank him for carrying me across the hospital. I’m not even sure he was a guy, actually). Then, made her appearance in the world a few moments later.


The good news: we left all the faucets on this time.

Big brother meets baby sister. Love at first sight.
Big brother meets baby sister. Love at first sight.
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