On this, the eve of kiddo's birth, I awoke remembering what I had done the day before she was born.
The ex and I had traveled to a city a couple hours' drive from where we lived at the time. The ex was traveling there to look for work -- he was about to graduate college and he was desperate to find a good living for his about-to-grow family.
Now I wasn't supposed to travel because my doctor had pretty much put me on bed rest due to my toxemia but I felt fine that day. I was going stir crazy, being as heavily pregnant as one could be given my small stature. Besides, I wasn't really worried because I planned to just ride in the car and get out only for lunch and bathroom breaks.
So we went. I had a great time. I didn't feel bad at all, did exactly what I'd planned to do (sit except for the above-mentioned exceptions) and we made it back home in time for the doctor's appointment I had in the evening. I walked in, the doctor took one look at me, and said, "You need to go home and pack your things. You're going in the hospital tonight, and we're having that baby tomorrow."
Apparently the way I felt and the way I looked weren't the same.
I was secretly glad. At that point, I didn't care (as Murphy Brown famously said) if it took a melonballer, I just wanted it OUT! So the ex and I looked at each other all nervous-like, drove home, and I packed for the hospital. I was ready.
I don't remember anything else until the next morning. They woke me up at 6 am and got me prepped and ready to go. They had to induce, which in retrospect was something I wish I'd been able to avoid. I know now that my body wasn't ready to give birth and if I'd waited a few more weeks maybe I'd have done better. She was actually due sometime around the second week of April.
Again, I don't remember much about the intervening hours. I know my parents were there and my mother-in-law, chainsmoking in the outside patio until I was sure both had voluntarily given up a couple of years of their lives. My father, especially, since he'd lost his sister in childbirth when he was 15 years old. I'm quite sure that the wait was horrifying to him; now that I am a parent I understand that in a way I wasn't able to then.
I had friends come in, the parents, the in laws.....for about 12 hours. I was doing pretty good, not too much pain until about 8 pm. I asked for drugs, got an epidural, and felt immensely better. However, the labor wasn't progressing and I never did dilate past a 4. Eventually her heartbeat began to fluctuate badly and it was then that things moved along at an incredible pace. They prepped me for surgery at 11:30 pm and she was born at 11:35 pm.
My life's never been the same. I could wax all poetic about the only love in my life that is completely unconditional, etc., etc., but I'll spare everyone. All parents feel it...at least I hope so. I can't imagine not bonding in that way with your children, for one because it makes sense in an evolutionary species-propagating sort of way, but because it is just such a profound experience.
I was damaged permanently in the birth. Part of the way I am now is because of what happened that day. You know what? Give me the choice again -- no child, or be different -- and I'd choose her every time.
That's love.
Happy birthday, baby.
No comments:
Post a Comment