We Are Not Alone...

This is a picture of Baby Susan at about 4 or 5 years old.

Notice her hair.  The way she is standing.  Isn't she cute?  Imagine my surprise when I was looking at AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com (don't judge me) and ran across this!

Doesn't that look like my Baby Susan?  I don 't know who those people are but I really think that is Susan in the middle.

Let's try it side by side.

Is this the same child or what?  Feet position, check.  Hair, check.  Smile, check. Same child.  It has to be.

I really do not know who those adults are but I can assure you that they are not Danny and me.  The people seem to be styled to look like the late 70's or early 80's which would make the child about Susan's age.  Wait, is that man is sporting blond hair and beard like Danny did about then.  And the lady is blonde and wearing thick glasses...like....me....Could it be that there my little family has a doppelganger family out there.?

Goofy Face

To continue the Champion Family Saga…

Susan came into our lives and turned them upside down.  Between the two of us we thought we had this baby thing under control.  I had read EVERY book printed on the subject.  Danny approached the whole child-raising thing the way he approaches everything, very logically.  Not a problem.

But once we got ourselves up off the ground from the sheer magnitude of what we had undertaken, we started noticing something about our little bundle of joy.  She had developed a little talent.  We called it her ability to make Goofy Face.

Example.

Easter.  She is about 3-4 months old.  First, her normal beautiful face.

See the attractive hint of a grin.  The twinkle in her eye.

Now for Goofy Face.

Aw, yes.  A face only a mother could love.

But you know what, I love her Goofy Face.

And Then There Was Susan

Let’s go back to the tale of Danny and Pam…

On January 17, 1978, Danny and I drove in to Dr. Marketto’s office for my regular ob appointment.  Up until this point I my pregnancy had been remarkably uneventful.  Some swelling around the ankles but nothing to write home about.  We expected another routine appointment.

Imagine our surprise when Dr. Marketto told us that we were to go directly to the hospital.  I protested a little and he told us that we were having a baby tomorrow.  And that if we didn’t go to the hospital he could loose me, my baby, or both.  We drove to the hospital.

Once there, I was placed in a private room with curtains drawn.  No lights.  No television.  No telephone calls.  No stimulation of any kind.  I had pre-eclampsia and my blood pressure had escalated to dangerous levels.  When Danny went home that night, all I could do was lie in that hospital bed and cry and pray for my baby.

The next day after attempts to induce labor failed, I was wheeled into the operating room for a caesarean.  After all the uncertainty, after all pain, after all the prayers, guess what we got.  Susan Emily.  After January 18, 1978 our lives were never the same.