The birth of my first child...anniversary of becoming a parent
February 3rd, 1988
As I recall it was a day much like today; partly sunny, blustery and cold, typical of a mild New England February day. It was a full moon, though my keeping track was more limited than it is today. Of course, I'd gone to work that morning knowing that my time was coming soon. I think my full term was still a couple of weeks off.
I'd made it home from work mid-afternoon, thinking I'd gone in to labor with orders to meet my OB at the hospital down the street. I was happy, scared and looking forward to meeting my little girl. I already knew she was a girl. Being 35 when I'd gotten pregnant an amniocentesis was ordered and we elected to know the sex. I'd had many long talks with her along the way. There were days when I'd had signs that she would leave me too soon, 3 or 4 months in. I'd already had one miscarriage but not so deep into the process. I remember telling her to make up her mind, stay or go. It was her choice, but I wanted her to know that I wanted her to stay. By February 3rd it was time for her to meet her new world.
In the hospital, I was finding the contractions easy enough to handle. I lay in a hallway steeping in the moments as they built in my mind. Suddenly the enormity of it all hit me in an odd way. I have always been a creature who would easily seek an alternative route is something became blocked or difficult. There was no alternative route here. This was the change. From this point on everything was different. Oh yeah, I know...nine months earlier was the actual moment....a morning in May, by Moosehead Lake. I just knew. But this was the moment that she would utterly change my world.
My doctor came to tell me my contractions weren't doing what they needed to and he was going to give me something to make them work better.
I remember the awful pain in my back. The contractions were almost a comfort without the back pain. They were like an internal massage, but still ineffectual. I began to think the nurses, my husband, and my doctor was all angry with me, telling me to push harder. I was pushing with everything I had in me but still nothing to show for it, except people seeming angry. In retrospect, I don't think anyone was actually angry it was just a very weird space in time. I'd been given a spinal block that calmed the back pain but still, the contractions weren't pushing out my little girl.
My doctor was a very funny guy, always telling jokes, a wee bit off-color but funny. He had to know his audience I suppose. When the spinal kicked in I began to sing on the table. 'heaven, I'm in heaven!' It was then he came to me and told me that he was going to have to take her with forceps. He must have had the same conversation with her dad. They talked about cutting me and the reasons for that. I just kept agreeing. I trusted him.
Then it was done. She was out and busy with nurses and her daddy. I was wrapped in warm blankets shaking uncontrollably. It was a reaction to all of it. I didn't trust myself to hold her yet because of all the shaking.
He made tearful phone calls to the grandparents, aunts, and uncles waiting for word. She'd arrived at 10:33PM while the moon rose in the sky. The shaking subsided and I held my little wonder (that's what I called her). Her dad went home after a post-birth walk and tucked me into my room.
I am a night owl by nature and with the events of the day, I wasn't ready for sleep. The full moon became obscured by clouds. A snowstorm loomed, poised to hit the next day. I love snowstorms. I felt this was a gift from the mother. As I sat on the edge of my bed my milk came in, drenching my gown and the floor. I hadn't noticed until the constant drip worked its way into my brain. What a strange and amazing feeling that was. Now I don't remember if she roomed with me or in a nursery on the floor. The snowstorm left us 10 inches of frozen diamonds, it was a beautiful sight.
I don't imagine it could have been a more perfect day; total transformation, a new human and beautiful snowstorm, in one 24 hour window. Welcome to the world, little wonder. I'm glad you elected to stay.
As I recall it was a day much like today; partly sunny, blustery and cold, typical of a mild New England February day. It was a full moon, though my keeping track was more limited than it is today. Of course, I'd gone to work that morning knowing that my time was coming soon. I think my full term was still a couple of weeks off.
I'd made it home from work mid-afternoon, thinking I'd gone in to labor with orders to meet my OB at the hospital down the street. I was happy, scared and looking forward to meeting my little girl. I already knew she was a girl. Being 35 when I'd gotten pregnant an amniocentesis was ordered and we elected to know the sex. I'd had many long talks with her along the way. There were days when I'd had signs that she would leave me too soon, 3 or 4 months in. I'd already had one miscarriage but not so deep into the process. I remember telling her to make up her mind, stay or go. It was her choice, but I wanted her to know that I wanted her to stay. By February 3rd it was time for her to meet her new world.
In the hospital, I was finding the contractions easy enough to handle. I lay in a hallway steeping in the moments as they built in my mind. Suddenly the enormity of it all hit me in an odd way. I have always been a creature who would easily seek an alternative route is something became blocked or difficult. There was no alternative route here. This was the change. From this point on everything was different. Oh yeah, I know...nine months earlier was the actual moment....a morning in May, by Moosehead Lake. I just knew. But this was the moment that she would utterly change my world.
My doctor came to tell me my contractions weren't doing what they needed to and he was going to give me something to make them work better.
I remember the awful pain in my back. The contractions were almost a comfort without the back pain. They were like an internal massage, but still ineffectual. I began to think the nurses, my husband, and my doctor was all angry with me, telling me to push harder. I was pushing with everything I had in me but still nothing to show for it, except people seeming angry. In retrospect, I don't think anyone was actually angry it was just a very weird space in time. I'd been given a spinal block that calmed the back pain but still, the contractions weren't pushing out my little girl.
My doctor was a very funny guy, always telling jokes, a wee bit off-color but funny. He had to know his audience I suppose. When the spinal kicked in I began to sing on the table. 'heaven, I'm in heaven!' It was then he came to me and told me that he was going to have to take her with forceps. He must have had the same conversation with her dad. They talked about cutting me and the reasons for that. I just kept agreeing. I trusted him.
Then it was done. She was out and busy with nurses and her daddy. I was wrapped in warm blankets shaking uncontrollably. It was a reaction to all of it. I didn't trust myself to hold her yet because of all the shaking.
He made tearful phone calls to the grandparents, aunts, and uncles waiting for word. She'd arrived at 10:33PM while the moon rose in the sky. The shaking subsided and I held my little wonder (that's what I called her). Her dad went home after a post-birth walk and tucked me into my room.
I am a night owl by nature and with the events of the day, I wasn't ready for sleep. The full moon became obscured by clouds. A snowstorm loomed, poised to hit the next day. I love snowstorms. I felt this was a gift from the mother. As I sat on the edge of my bed my milk came in, drenching my gown and the floor. I hadn't noticed until the constant drip worked its way into my brain. What a strange and amazing feeling that was. Now I don't remember if she roomed with me or in a nursery on the floor. The snowstorm left us 10 inches of frozen diamonds, it was a beautiful sight.
I don't imagine it could have been a more perfect day; total transformation, a new human and beautiful snowstorm, in one 24 hour window. Welcome to the world, little wonder. I'm glad you elected to stay.
Comments
Post a Comment