"She looks so much like you. She has your mouth." This was one of the first pieces of information my husband shared about my daughter that made its way through the morphine and lodged itself in my brain. Over the past eleven weeks I have heard that time and time again. And it's true. Her little nose and the lines around her mouth are shockingly familiar. There are moments when I could swear I was looking at a photograph of myself. However, a frown and a cabbage patch doll nose are not all we have in common. The more she develops, the more I see personality traits similar to my own. She's already showing a determination that borders on stubbornness and a tendency to over react. While I expected to share some things in common with my daughter, I didn't expect this to show itself before birth.
Some women are thrilled when they find out they are pregnant. They eagerly wait for their husband to come home so they can share the news in some super- cute manor like presenting him with a pair of baby booties. I, however, was not one of these women. After taking four home pregnancy tests I called my husband on the verge of tears. After he came home we went and bought even more tests. After six additional positive tests, I spent about a month in denial. I had no desire to be a mother.
It's not that I never wanted to have children. I always figured it would happen eventually - somewhere down the road. I figured we would both be established at good jobs and have our own house before we got pregnant. I still was considering graduate school and wanted some time to figure out what I was going to do with my life. I didn't want my only career accomplishment to be sticking with the same restaurant chain for five years. I was not ready to be a mother.
Nine months later when my water broke I was excited, but still a little skeptical of the whole situation. Apparently so was Mouse. She was just as afraid of change as I was. For months she had been safe and warm. She was familiar with our routine. She was content with her life. When my water broke and my body began to usher her into a new phase of life, she refused. After 25 hours of labor I was cut open and together we were forcibly born into a new life. She as a baby; me as a mother. It was a violent and unexpected birth for both of us. And neither of us has any regrets.
It took Mouse about one day to adjust to life outside the womb and she has decided that she loves it. She is a happy ,content baby. Despite her stubbornness and over dramatic reactions to hunger and messy diapers ,she is one of the most laid back, easy babies I have ever known. She sleeps through the night and is content tolie on her back and watch anything you put in front of her face. She recognizes the voices of a few people and is thrilled to hear them. She smiled for the first time a day after she was born and has hardly stopped since.
As for myself? I couldn't be more content with my new life. I am learning to enjoy all those domestic activities I once found dull and boring. I find enjoyment in trying out new recipes and received a sewing machine for Christmas. My favorite part of the day is when Mouse wakes up from a nap and breaks into a smile at the sight of my face. If given the choice, four months ago neither of us would have chosen this idea of “birth”. Ironically, it was the best thing to happen to either of us.
3/3/08
2/27/08
Remembering
My scar was bothering me last night. Nothing serious. Just a little sore and tender. It still stings on occasion. Mostly when I've had Mouse on my lap all day. She wiggles and squirms and rubs against the scar that bears witness to my love for her. Every time I catch a glimpse of the bright purple addition to my anatomy, my mind is flooded with a million thoughts. It is a constant reminder to me. A reminder of the terrifying procedure I went through to bring my Mouse into this world. A reminder of her reluctance to enter this world. A reminder of the million changes both physical and emotional that I have gone through the past year.
Weeks before the expected arrival date, Josh and I sat down and wrote out a detailed list of our wishes during labor and delivery. It included a dozen little details on everything from who we wanted in the room with us (no one) to Josh cutting the umbilical cord and how soon we would want to try breast feeding (in the first hour).
It was two days after my due date and two minutes into my doctor’s appointment when my water broke. We rushed to the hospital and because we were originally intending to go to the grocery store and not the hospital, we were not in the least prepared. My bag wasn't fully packed much less waiting in the back of the car, and the birth plan we had so carefully constructed wasn't even printed out. Not that it mattered. We arrived at the hospital sometime around 10 a.m .and what ensued in the next 25 hours had nothing to do with my carefully constructed plan.
Because my water had broken, I had to have monitors on at all times which meant that walking the halls or using the jets in the bath tub was out of the question. I was in so much pain I soon forgot my desire to have no one but Josh in the room with me and was relieved to have his mother there to coach us both through the contractions.
My original plan was to have a natural birth. When labor started slowing down 17 hours after my water broke, that plan was thrown out the window. Pitosin and an epidural were ordered. I pushed for two hours, but Mouse still didn't want to show. I had wanted to avoid a c-section at all costs. I was terrified of being cut open, I wanted to see my baby as soon as possible, and with no insurance the expense of surgery sent me into a mild panic attack. With tears threatening to spill down my face, I made the choice to throw out the last of our plans. It was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I've ever made.
Though I hope to never go through that experience again, I wouldn't change it for the world. Those 25 hours of labor are some of the sweetest hours in our marriage. We leaned on each other more intensely than ever before. It deepened our bond in a way I never expected. Even more unexpected, however, was the effect it had on our walk with God. Like so many other moments during the pregnancy, God had stripped away everything we could have used as a crutch. All of our plans failed, and we were left with the perfect plan of our Father.
Weeks before the expected arrival date, Josh and I sat down and wrote out a detailed list of our wishes during labor and delivery. It included a dozen little details on everything from who we wanted in the room with us (no one) to Josh cutting the umbilical cord and how soon we would want to try breast feeding (in the first hour).
It was two days after my due date and two minutes into my doctor’s appointment when my water broke. We rushed to the hospital and because we were originally intending to go to the grocery store and not the hospital, we were not in the least prepared. My bag wasn't fully packed much less waiting in the back of the car, and the birth plan we had so carefully constructed wasn't even printed out. Not that it mattered. We arrived at the hospital sometime around 10 a.m .and what ensued in the next 25 hours had nothing to do with my carefully constructed plan.
Because my water had broken, I had to have monitors on at all times which meant that walking the halls or using the jets in the bath tub was out of the question. I was in so much pain I soon forgot my desire to have no one but Josh in the room with me and was relieved to have his mother there to coach us both through the contractions.
My original plan was to have a natural birth. When labor started slowing down 17 hours after my water broke, that plan was thrown out the window. Pitosin and an epidural were ordered. I pushed for two hours, but Mouse still didn't want to show. I had wanted to avoid a c-section at all costs. I was terrified of being cut open, I wanted to see my baby as soon as possible, and with no insurance the expense of surgery sent me into a mild panic attack. With tears threatening to spill down my face, I made the choice to throw out the last of our plans. It was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I've ever made.
Though I hope to never go through that experience again, I wouldn't change it for the world. Those 25 hours of labor are some of the sweetest hours in our marriage. We leaned on each other more intensely than ever before. It deepened our bond in a way I never expected. Even more unexpected, however, was the effect it had on our walk with God. Like so many other moments during the pregnancy, God had stripped away everything we could have used as a crutch. All of our plans failed, and we were left with the perfect plan of our Father.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
share this post »