Y2K, A Love Story...

I have never been a "New Year's" person...you know, I was never one to build it all up in my mind, get all primped and excited to dance and party and pop corks and drink more than I can handle (save that for springtime!)...I never wished for these life changing "New Year's" moments or longed to kiss some handsome knight in shining armor while confetti fell around us. Please. I have lived less than 20 miles from Times Square (less than a mile back in the '90's) my entire life and have never ventured there to watch the ball drop...in fact, the notion kind of makes me dry heave a little. All those out-of-towners and yahoos surrounding me, pressing up against me...ick, gives me hives...But don't get me wrong...I was always a willing partier, filled with good cheer and looking ahead to the great things to come, it was just that, well, New Year's was just another night...And then, there was Y2K....

In late March of 1999 I learned that I was pregnant with my first child...and upon visiting Dr. Levine, (my secret crush...I always develop an odd fascination with my doctors, a story for another time...) it was determined my due date would be December 27, 1999. Five days before the New Millennium would arrive...and we all know that first babies are inevitably late, and my mom's five kids were all born a week past due at least...so I knew then and there that the math was against me, there was a good chance that this baby would be born in the New Year. And most people thought that was kind of cool, but being the news junkie and conspiracy theorist that I am, I was buying all of that "Y2K, the world is going to end and life as we know it will cease to exist" bullsh*t, all I could think was: Just my luck. Dr. Levine scoffed at my concerns (tough love...) and everyone I talked to brushed it off, reassuring me. But I could see the look in their eyes every time...no one wanted to be stuck in a hospital giving birth when every computer in the world blew up simultaneously. But what could I do? This kid was coming when he or she wanted to, that was one thing of which I was certain. So I just plugged along, did my best to be a healthy and positive expectant mom...which I was...

On the evening of December 30, 1999, while eating brownies and kicking everyone's a** in Trivial Pursuit (as always...) at BFF Allison and Kevin's house on Eton Terrace, I felt the first in a long line of labor pains...and then another, and another. Kev got the stop watch out and we collectively timed the contractions...12 minutes apart. Inwardly, I was psyched...relieved that my baby was coming before any of the Y2K stuff could pose any problems. Rob and I went home that night and waited. And waited. And waited. 36 hours later, I was still having regular 7-minute contractions as that damn ball dropped over Times Square...I sh*t you not. We finally arrived at the hospital at 5 a.m. on New Year's Day....and it was serene and quiet and peaceful...The nurses gave me this giant room...Rob remarked at the hospital's emptiness and they told him that the two days prior had been round-the-clock birthing, with women laboring in hallways and closets...doctors running from room to room...36 babies born in 48 hours. But this day, they said, was a great day to give birth, most of the new moms had cleared out, there were no scheduled procedures in anticipation of Y2K maddness (which was, we know now, a myth.

..) and the maternity ward was abundant with doctors and nurses, but virtually no patients. My mom was with us and I remember her saying that maybe this was a lucky turn of events. Of course it was....

January 1, 2000, 5:56 p.m. (nearly 48 hours since my first contraction) I gave birth to the first great love of my life: Elizabeth Collins Anderson, 6 lbs. 12 oz., 19 inches...signature strawberry blond hair already visible on her teeny tiny little head. This little Baby New Year, on the first day of the New Millennium -- one of only two born at Valley Hospital that day -- was greeted by 25 of our family members and friends who had gathered in the waiting room on this national holiday to welcome her. How lucky was she? And she was all mine...

I could go on forever...I could tell you about Ellie's free spirit and her flair for the dramatic...How she is my mom's twin (Irish lass looks and the crazy little quirks...), a protective big sister to the boys and a loving friend too. But what strikes me most about my daughter is that in these short nine years she has already grown into a stronger person than I will ever be, possessing qualities that I don't have. Ellie has never, not a day in her life, thought twice about what other people think of her...she couldn't care less. And that astounds me.

So...you can imagine what my opinion of New Year's is these days...I still don't go out (this year we hosted friends at our house -- booze, pajamas and Mom jewelry...my friends too "blog-shy" to pose for pj-clad photos...) and I will never watch that ball drop in person....But New Year's is now the anniversary of one of the three best days of my life...how can I not celebrate? Every year the whole world celebrates with us...and as each year passes, even a year that has posed as many challenges as this one has, I am reminded that I should always be thankful, because I have been so very blessed.

xo, Suz

Photo 1: New Year's in Times Square...that'll never be, never be, never be me...and don't you ever think it....

Photo 2: Right, sure...stockpile a little SPAM, some bottled water and electrical tape, the world is coming to an end...

Photo 3: My Baby New Year...two months old with big blue eyes in March 2000...

Photo 4: Sassy little monster on the way to nursery school...

Photo 5: Big girl now, as flower girl in Alessa's wedding, August 2007...

Photo 6: Toasting our blessings at the Fourways Inn, Paget, Bermuda...with my Rudolph-ian sunburned nose and a rum swizzle in hand...Ellie looking a little frightened of me, no?