Christmas fell on a Monday that year. We lived in Garden Grove, California, so the weather was sunny and warm on Christmas day. Grandma Mead had been visiting in the morning, but left after lunch.
After all the presents were opened and the three children were playing outside or napping, I crawled around on my hands and knees, picking up the toys that were scattered all over the living room and the sun-room. I was pregnant. See the pregnant 27-year-old mommy in the photo below. (Twelve days past my due date.)
In the afternoon, Paul was feeling nostalgic, so we took the kids for a drive to Carbon Canyon to see his boyhood neighborhood. During the drive, I began to have contractions. I was not overly concerned— But, I knew!! (At last! Hooray!)
In the evening, Paul and I played games (Monopoly?) after putting the children to bed. We were patiently timing contractions. Around 10 p.m. I finished the laundry, and then took a shower. At 11 p.m. Karl Farnsworth and his wife Jackie came over to sleep on the sofa while we went to the hospital.
David was almost a Christmas baby; he was born about 28 minutes past midnight. A day later, he came home in a red and white striped “Christmas stocking”: a late Christmas gift! David was named after his great grandfather David Edwards, and the City of David, and also the Angel Gabriel because it was Christmas. For a long time, I referred to David as “my Angel Baby” because he was so unfussy. He only became “Crazy Dave” later. : D
My favorite photo of David:
So full of life!