28 years ago, it was Labor Day today, Toby's birthday. We had been in Paso Robles the whole weekend, hot, dusty, softball tournament weekend, spent in a camper with tired, grubby 5 year-old twins. We drove the long hours back to Monterey late Sunday night, poor Ryan fell down the steps of the camper getting out, he was so tired. Off and on all night, I felt early labor. In the morning, I knew it was time to get down to bidness, and the midwife and her assistants were called. I spent the hours walking in the yard, laying in the grass in the sun, in the bed, on the floor. 8 1/2 pounds of Toby, born in the early evening. He slept on my chest and tummy the rest of that first night.
I didn't have a name for him yet; the first few days I called him Oinky.