Day One

Dear Ella,

Sunday, May 3rd at around noon, my water broke in front of the grocery store in St. Albert, Alberta. Your dad and I were with Alex Bush, your cousin, on our way to Rundle Park to play frisbee golf. Alex, excited because we were taking him to buy his birthday present, looked not to pleased in the back seat when we told him we wouldn't be able to play. Both your dad and I were surprised and could not stop smiling. We wanted you before you were conceived and wanted to meet you.

It is as if all the events proceeding this momentous couldn't possibly be forgotten and everything became a visceral, memorable detail. It began with a girl in a cart that went rolling off the sidewalk to the parking lot and I leaped out of the car to stop her. It was then I felt a gushing. It didn't stop. The incredulous look on your father's face, the long walk to a bathroom, wet and laughing, the heat of summer and a proud thrill; each flash of memory I knew this was the beginning of your arrival.

We were surprised and took some time to pack our bags. There were still no contractions and we made our way to the Grey Nun's Hospital. You were not ready to be born. We were sent home with instructions to wait and return in the morning if there were still no contractions.

We waited four days and with the help of doctors and nurses you came to us. Your first moments were spent crying on my stomach and then you lay quietly on a table being examined. Your father held you and you were alert and quiet. The emotion is too awesome to explain. You filled us up and made us full of love. May 7th will always be remembered fondly and with much passion.