Where to Begin . . .

I’ve heard people describe various moments of motherhood in which a light switch flipped and “aha” they had that connection to their child and felt like a “mom.” This could be the first time they felt their child move in their womb, perhaps it was during childbirth, or maybe it was months later when the bonding took place. For me, it was childbirth.

Now don’t get me wrong, I loved my daughter incredibly while I was pregnant and – embarrassingly – spent hour, HOURS, staring at her ultrasounds. In fact, I often look at her now and can see the resemblance from those dark, musky photographs. But that moment in which I felt a love that is impossible to truly articulate took place on her birthday.

She came early and somewhat unexpected. I had experienced some pre-term labor symptoms so wasn’t altogether surprised if I came early. But that day – a Thursday – was a busy one at work. I had a work event to attend and was rushing (as fast as an eight-month pregnant woman rushes) out of my office so I could grab some In N’ Out before the event. The last thing I wanted was to be that ginormous pregnant lady in the corner stuffing appetizers down my throat . . .but this was the reality I was facing if I didn’t eat N-O-W. So as light-headed and tired as I was, I quickly buzzed through the drive thru and was gobbling up my cheeseburger and fries while my navigation system pointed me in the right direction. Except, wait, where the heck was I?! I was headed to the airport and the navigation system was yelling at me. Shoot! I was so close to missing the event and was headed straight toward a sea of red brake lights. I did what anyone (okay, maybe not anyone) would do: I drove on the freeway shoulder in order to get back on track. Well, I made it less than a car length when a police officer appeared out of nowhere and pulled me over. Damnit. Well, now I really was going to miss the event. The police officer asked why I would do such a thing. Answer: I’m stupid. I did feel really bad and was very apologetic. Not that that mattered much. He asked for my license and registration. And right at that moment of transfer when my license was in both of our hands . . . my water BROKE. Now I’ve had friends who had their water leak. But this was no leak. It was gushing. Waves of gushing liquid. I caught my breath and knew this police officer was not going to believe me. He saw my uneasiness and said “Is everything okay?” All I could respond with is, “I think I’m leaking.” He asked if I wanted a paramedic. I told him I’d call my husband and let him know. So I called Rob and said something along the lines of “OMG! I just got pulled over, have no clue where I am and we’re having a baby!” He said something resembling “Um. Ok. I’ll pack a bag.” Yes, we hadn’t packed my bag yet. I wasn’t due for three more weeks!

The police officer had called in my license and I was clean – obviously – and so he let me go stating that “he had somewhere else he needed to be.” Whatever. I WAS HAVING A BABY! I quickly called Rob again and said “I have no idea where I am.” At this point my navigation system was just pisst at me and the water was gushing everywhere as I was sliding around in my seat. In the meantime, Rob called the hospital and they said to come on in. So he told me to go there directly and we’d meet up to HAVE A BABY! But – I still hadn’t a clue where I was or how to get to the hospital from there. I did, however, have our home in my navigation system so I pushed HOME and was on my way.

When I got home, the water was literally everywhere: in my shoes, all over my car, etc. I was drenched in fluid and was very thankful that my car was leased. I quickly changed and we jumped in Rob’s car and were on our way to the hospital.

When I got there, they tested my fluid to make sure it wasn’t urine. Give me a break, if that was urine we had bigger issues than childbirth to deal with . . .I think. Anyway, it was amniotic fluid and we were off! Well, except for the fact that though I had been having contractions since week 17 – all of a sudden I wasn’t, and I needed to be. So they wanted to give me pitocin. Now, as a pregnant woman, I heard all of the childbirth nightmares and useless advice (“get your sleep now!”) and one of them was PITOCIN = BAD. So I said I didn’t want it. They said “okay, you have until midnight to start contracting.” Okay. Um…how do I do that? Well, basically I don’t. Meanwhile, my sister rushes down to the hospital with an early push present – a book of nursery rhymes, it was beautiful. So we hung out and chilled. I e-mailed work – which had not even noticed I hadn’t made the event – WTF?!

And then midnight came . . . so Rob and I hunkered down and prepared for the contractions. They weren’t that bad really. Rob was an amazing coach and applied the counter-pressure techniques we had learned in our birthing class and they worked really well. We were a team and it was working pretty well. Until they didn’t. And when they didn’t, they – hurt – BAAAD. I mean, OUCH! I tried to hold out because I was under the impression that EPIDURALS = BAD (again, horror stories and Ricky Lake’s docudrama). But I finally asked for an epidural. The nurse and doctor came in and were so kind. The nurse kept petting my hair while the doctor inserted the epidural with humor and reassurance. I didn’t feel a thing and soon became a believer stating to the heavens that EPIDURAL = GOOOOOOD! Real good. The rest of my labor was pretty uneventful. I basically sat around for ten hours sucking on lollipops, visiting with my parents and updating my Facebook page. At around 1 p.m. my OBGYN – the best doctor on the planet – came in and said, “let’s push.” So I pushed through three contractions (and it was hard to push, I’ll admit that) and out my daughter came! I didn’t hear her scream right away and was worried. I looked up, saw her blue body and finally heard it: the most beautiful cry in the world. AND I SOBBED. I cried so hard. Uncontrollably. They wrapped her and put her in my arms and I smiled for the camera through my tears but never stopped crying. Not for about two hours. I cried with absolute joy. I was so overwhelmed with love, joy and happiness – I really cannot explain. It flooded my heart. Through my tears I noticed that my doctor was stitching me up and I asked if I needed am episiotomy. He said no but that I had torn. Never felt any of that because the EPIDURAL ROCKED!

Rob and I took some time in the room to just enjoy the three of us. It’s a moment I’ll never forget. I am so lucky to have had such an amazing and rewarding labor and delivery. To be honest, it was a good time and I have no concern about doing it again. Uh oh . . .