Four Months Already?!

You're sleeping in my lap now, something that we do regularly, and all I have to do is look down to see your sweet little face in the blue light from my laptop screen. You snort and wiggle and giggle in your sleep. Sometimes you cry too, and Mama snuggles you closer then.

I don't think I realized it when we were in the hospital, but giving birth to you was the first step in the most healing process I've ever experienced. When your grandma died, it left a huge hole in me, one that I was afraid to talk about, one that I felt awkward about, but somehow the aspect that defined me most. Losing her was the largest event in my life and for more than two decades, I measured everything by before her death and after. I missed her so much, missed her every single day, missed her so much that sometimes even as a grownup, I'd have days when I'd just double over and sob, "I want my mother" over and over and over.

She wasn't perfect (and I won't be either, not even close, which I'm sure you'll know all too well and all too soon) but she was mine and losing her was so painful. I didn't realize it for a long time, but I think I put off having you as long as I did because I was just scared. Scared that I'd die, scared that your dad would, scared that you would, that I'd make someone I loved so much only to lose them. But then, and this is one of the things I want you to know if you lose me before you have a baby of your own, I realized that not doing things because you're scared is not a valid reason. There are plenty of reasons not to have a baby - not wanting to give up the time, not wanting to share your life with someone who has no ability to share - but never, ever avoid doing something for no other reason than fear. Suddenly, irrationally, I wanted you SO badly - especially for some odd reason after reading The Beach Street Knitting Society and Yarn Club and Hens Dancing (British novels have such charmingly imperfect children...) - and then I finally got brave enough to say that aloud.

The Story of You, Part 5

Turns out your timing was perfect because my blood pressure spiked pretty badly right after you arrived (199 over 145). I wasn’t awake enough to be worried, but everyone in the delivery room was, especially Daddy and Grandpa. I was too busy feeding you your first meal. They gave me a few doses of medicine over the next hour or so, but they weren’t helping, and out of concern that I might have a seizure, they started me on a magnesium IV drip and moved me into the high-risk pregnancy section rather than regular labor recovery. Magnesium dulls your nervous system, so my arms felt like lead and I was very groggy for the next 24 hours, but between Daddy and the lactation consultant, we were able to make sure I could keep cuddling you and feeding you, even if I couldn’t actually lift you. By Tuesday night, I was able to come off the magnesium drip and I started making more sense right away – Daddy had been a little unnerved by how out of it I was, but I got better pretty quickly after the medicine was gone and I was able to have something other than clear liquids. French fries and chocolate chip cookies and iced tea from Max & Erma’s were what I wanted for dinner and it tasted SO good, since I’d not had anything other than juice and Jello since a piece of toast around lunch on Sunday.

Wednesday, my blood pressure still wasn’t low enough, so we had to hang out a bit longer, but I just got to feed you and cuddle with you and rest, so I didn’t mind at all. By Thursday morning, they thought you had a touch of jaundice and were concerned, so we were afraid you were in for another night in the hospital. I really just wanted to get you home and settled in our space (and get a shower!), so they scrambled around and found a light blanket and you came home as a little blue glowworm.

The ride home was the most terrifying car ride of Mama’s entire life! I’m still not sure exactly why. I wasn’t scared to be bringing you home – couldn’t wait, in fact. I think it was probably partly that we’d been in such a still, quiet, monochromatic environment, and suddenly, in my overly emotional state, we were out in the world with all these colors and noises and things moving and I was absolutely petrified that something would happen to you somehow. It didn’t help that an ambulance and fire trucks passed us. You slept through the whole thing, of course, but I cried and cried and cried so hard that I could hardly breathe. Scared Daddy pretty badly and he was thinking he was going to have to pull over and let me calm down, but we made it home and then things were so much better. I was so excited to start our life at home with you that I forgot all about how scared I’d been when we got home!

The Story of You, Part 4

I don’t remember much about the next few moments. Labor’s funny that way, and maybe someday you’ll know yourself, that your focus just narrows down smaller and smaller, until you’re only aware of a small part of your field of vision and your breath and the intense feelings in your body. For awhile, I was just aware of Liza at the foot of the bed, ready to help you come out, with Daddy on her left and Sue on her right, but then when you came, everything else just became a big hazy blur around the two of us. There could have been a marching band, a clown troupe, and a herd of llamas in the room, and I still wouldn’t have seen anything but you.

Liza held you up, and I remember Daddy just looking at you, completely awestruck, and then telling me, “Nora Rosalie is here.” After that, all I could say was, “You’re here. You’re really here.” They got you on my chest right away, where you promptly peed like you’d been holding it for nine months, and after that, the rest of the room just disappeared. They started cleaning me up, and I held you while the umbilical cord stopped pulsing. After they cut the cord, they whisked you away for a few minutes to warm you, wipe you off a bit, and give you a few doses of the routine medicines they give newborn babies. Daddy took your photo and texted it to everyone in the waiting room, but he was so excited that he didn’t realize that you were wearing a pink AND blue striped hat. Everyone was impatient with waiting to find out who you were, and he slipped out to the waiting room to tell them who you were. (We hadn’t known if you were a boy or a girl and we hadn’t told anyone the names we were thinking of. If you’d have been a boy, you’d most likely have been Davis Finn!)

Uncle Kelly and Mary were there, along with Pop-Pop and Aunt Robyn and Aunt Dana and your cousin John Paller who was visiting. Grandma and Grandpa got there just about 15 minutes after you arrived. Uncle Kelly came back first to see you all by himself, and then Pop-Pop, then Aunt Robyn, Aunt Dana and John. After that, Grandpa and Grandma came back for a few minutes. Everyone took turns holding you and admiring how very, very beautiful you were.

The Story of You, Part 3

Mama was having back labor, which means the contractions were more in her back than in her stomach, and while I wanted very much to have you without any medical interventions or any medicine, I was starting to wonder if I could manage it. Liza helped me move into a better position on the bed though, and while the back pain didn’t go completely away, some of the moving shifted you enough that Mama was able to get a second wind. It was wonderful, like a fog lifted, and I started thinking about how close you were to finally being here. Daddy didn’t move more than two feet from us the whole time; he never trembled or needed to sit down at all and Mama was so grateful that he was there. (Even if she did tell him to shut up, just one time, in the bathroom when no one else was around. And she apologized right away.)

Everyone kept telling me to push, but I just couldn’t. Didn’t seem like the time somehow, but before long, the urge to push did hit and then I couldn’t have stopped if they’d asked me to! I still wasn’t sure I could do it, and I’d almost go to sleep between contractions, just dozing off, but Liza and Sue and Daddy kept telling me that I could, that I was doing great, that you were almost here, and it wasn’t long at all before they could see the top of your head. Daddy and Mama both touched your head – we wanted the first touches you felt to be ours, if at all possible, and Liza moved a mirror down so that I could see you as you began to come out.

You had so much hair! Daddy told people later that your hair was born seven minutes before the rest of you, and he was probably right. Liza thought you must be a boy, because she said pretty hair is usually wasted on little boys, but she told Daddy that she wasn’t even going to look when you came out, just turn you around and hold you up for him to see. (I remember feeling just a tiny bit disappointed when she said that, because I’d so hoped you’d be a girl.) Once you started coming out, Liza saw that your umbilical cord was wrapped around your neck, but she untangled you, helped turn you just a little bit, and the next time I pushed, you came right out! It was 7:35 p.m. on Monday, September 6.

The Story of You, Part 2

That’s when we started scrambling. Daddy had been so ready for you, so all our bags were packed and by the door or already loaded. I cleaned up really quickly and got dressed and we hopped in the car. We started calling people before we were out of the driveway, and I remember looking at the clock in Daddy’s car and seeing that it was 3:23. We got everyone called and texted while Daddy hustled us to the hospital. Contractions were stepping up a bit, but still not too bad, but by the time we got up to admissions, I was sure you were coming and pretty soon!

They asked lots of questions and had a few things for me to sign (thank goodness we’d pre-registered), which isn’t easy to do when you’re excited and having labor pains! We got checked in (officially admitted at 5:10 p.m.), they did an initial exam with me telling them all the time that I had been 7 cm for days, and then we got into a delivery room. The room had a lovely tub and Mama had been looking forward to doing some of her laboring there, but you didn’t give us much time!

Liza Canowitz was on call for the weekend as midwife, and she was the first person we saw when we went to the doctor’s office, so it was good to see a friendly face. And, just as Mama’s labor pains were stepping up, the nurse, a little woman in her early 60s with short grey hair, walked in and said, “Hi, my name’s Sue.” Mama started to cry and had to explain that we were really missing your Grandma Sue and that it was nice to have a sign that she was with us.

The Story of You, Part 1

You took a whole four-day weekend to come into the world! On Friday morning, I had a doctor’s appointment and was dilated to 7 cm without even having any contractions. Ms. Eva wisely sent me home instead of to the hospital, knowing that they wouldn’t allow me to sit around at 7 cm for very long. Of course, that also meant that we didn’t necessarily have a lot of time once you started to arrive, so Eva told us to get to the hospital pretty quickly when contractions were in any sort of pattern. (Just to be on the safe side, we did a little checking online to make sure we knew the basics to deliver you ourselves, on the off chance that you wouldn’t give us much notice!) Friday was an auction day, so Daddy went to work, reluctantly, rather than sit around and watch me. I just rested and read and tried to wait patiently for you to get here, but nothing happened Friday. Saturday, Daddy was nervous enough (and so was Grandpa Gerald, who was calling twice a day, along with Pop-Pop and Uncle Kelly…) that he stayed home. But still no appearance!

Sunday was a peaceful day and when I went to be Sunday night, I thought to myself that you could come whenever you wanted because you’d given me a nice last “non-mom” weekend. Daddy and I went to the farmer’s market and the library, watched a movie (Up in the Air), and went for a few walks in town. I took lots of baths and got to finish a beautiful novel (One Day) that made me very grateful for the day that we decided to have you.

Monday was Labor Day, so Daddy didn’t have to go to work and we decided to just wait around for you. I wasn’t feeling great, but still having no pains or anything concrete, and I have to admit, we both were frustrated and antsy with all the waiting. Mama probably even cried a little, just from being on edge for so long! (And from answering so many phone calls that started with, “Are you still pregnant?”) Around 1 p.m., we decided to just lie down and read and see what happened. I was having some minor contractions, but they weren’t really forming a pattern, so it didn’t seem like time to head for the hospital. While I was reading, Daddy dozed off and John Henry was sleeping by my tummy. I felt a funny little pop and he got up and moved up by my face to snuggle – seems like he knew that my water had broken, even if I didn’t. Just before 3 p.m., we decided we had the beginnings of a pattern, so Mama decided to go to the bathroom, come back and lie down for just a bit longer. But when I got up, I just made it into the hall and the water let loose!