Friday, May 18, 2007
Emma is 13
For some odd reason Emma likes me to tell the story of her difficult birth. May 17, 1994. I couldn't sleep. Contractions were regular but far apart, yet strong enough to keep me awake most of the night, half-sleeping on the couch. In the morning Dave was convinced we had to get to the hospital, even though my water hadn't broken and the contractions were still 7-10 minutes apart. My first birth - Ian - was only a four-hour labor. We were warned that the second birth is usually quicker. So we headed to St. Joseph's in Denver.
I'm laying in the pre-labor room and guess what - contractions sloooow down. Nothing happening. But the doctors want me to stay since my due date has just past by a couple days.
I get checked into a room and our best family-friend, Julie, comes in for support and coaching. She just had her second girl 6 weeks earlier. I was determined to give birth that day because Julie was leaving for Texas that night and I really wanted her to help with the delivery.
Labor starts up-pretty regular, pretty hard. Julie reminds me to moan low, relax my face, and breathe! The doctor comes in after a few hours, four I think. He checks me. There is a very concerned look on his face. Apparently the baby's face was facing directly out, not down (like a normal delivery). Baby's (have you ever noticed how obstectric nurses/doctors always say Baby and not "the" baby?) head is positioned to take up too much room in the cervix. Baby's head keeps pushing into the cervix with no room to push through. If baby doesn't pull out and re-position itself the doctor will have to perform a c-section. Uhh, I don't think so. We don't want that.
Julie and Dave immediately pray. About 5 minutes later I had an intense contraction. Ohhh, I will never forget that contraction. It was big, it was huge, I felt something move. The doctor came in for one last check and..."It seems baby has moved out of the cervix, put it's head down and moved back in, in the right position." Hmmmm! how did that happen.
Now labor proceeds as normal but Julie has to leave to catch her flight so she could eat a sumptuous meal at Threadgills. In pops Becky to take over. After 45 minutes of pushing, out pops a harry, elvis-looking creature. Is it a boy, is it a girl. (We found out with Ian but we didn't want to know with the second). Well, of course you know - but when they said it's a girl, I will never forget the feeling, the rush of --- YES! I felt such peace, pleasure, contentment. My little girl had come into the world.
My little girl is 13 today. She's taller than me, sometimes more mature than me (especially when my one goal in life is to royally embarrass my kids by doing the "mom dance") but she is still, and always will be my little girl.