A Story for my Daughter

You came to us on a Friday morning. We had been hoping for a week that you would come out. We went for walks, I drank strange tasting teas, we whispered sweet nothings into the skin on my belly, but nothing would rouse you.

Then on that Friday morning, so early that the sky was still black, you decided that it was time. I awoke with a slight pain in my belly, and three contractions later was wincing in pain.

"I'm going to take a bath," I whispered to your Dad. He groggily grunted an "okay" and so I poured, and dipped, and within minutes called to him to time the pains. Three more came and went, and I knew you were coming soon.

"Call the midwife." I said to your Dad.

"Already?" He asked.

"CALL THE MIDWIFE." I demanded, and surged into another wave of pain.

He called, and spoke, and I didn't need to ask him what he was asking me with his eyes.

"Tell her not to come here - we need to just meet her at the hospital. And call the others. NOW."

He did as I commanded, and within a half hour, Kay was over to sleep on the couch in case your big sister woke up, and your Auntie was on her way to the hospital to meet us.

Hardly having recovered from a wave of pain, I pulled myself out of the bathtub and got dressed. I moaned with the waves as they came, but I knew that you were coming and I was encouraged by the thought of you.

Halfway down the stairs another wave hit me. Then again in the kitchen, and again halfway into the car. I had three waves on the drive, and another in the parking lot. Another in the elevator, and another at the front desk. I knew you were coming soon.

I laid on the bed, waiting for the midwife, your Dad by my side and your Auntie standing, praying, smiling.

"I want an epidural..." I moaned as I heard the midwife's voice.

"You're 8 centimetres dilated. I think that you might have this baby within the hour. An epidural could slow it down and make it longer."

I cried, feeling helpless. I cried not knowing how it would feel without that relief. With your sister, I had gotten an epidural after two days of labour, but you were coming so fast that there was little time, and little logic to it.

I cried, and then overcame my fear. I knew that I had to be strong and not weak. Labour, after all, demands strength.

I calmed myself and accepted some gas. It helped me cope in a labour that came so quickly that I couldn't catch my breath. I moaned and breathed and twisted my body around, and within an hour was feeling that earth-shattering feeling of you coming into the world, and then you were born.

They put you on my chest and I cried and laughed at the same time. I proclaimed your name proudly to your Auntie and the nurse, and laughed and cried some more.

Your Dad cut the cord, took you and held you, and stood beside you as you were weighed - a fine 9 pounds and 7 ounces! I let out a sigh of exasperation and relief and mostly joy. You were here. You are here.

It has been four days now. You are beautiful. Your ruby lips and perfectly round head leave us all in awe every time we look at you. You are well loved, well adored. Your sister is enamored, and your parents hardly have words.

And as I sit here, milk dripping from my right boob and pain and aching in my nether region, I can't express to you how worth it all you are to me. I would do it all over again in an instant.