The birth of our first child

It has been ten months since our first daughter was born. Even now, looking back on that event, I'm filled with a feeling of disbelief that this ever happened. But it did. And we have a beautiful little girl to prove it. Still....

Greta was technically due on June 6th, a date confirmed by two OBs, based on my hormone levels and her in-utero size. Note to self and expecting moms... due dates are just an estimate! According to our midwife, Greta was born with the gestational development of a 39 week old, rather than a 37 week old baby as she supposedly was. But I digress... Needless to say, when I started my maternity leave, Josh and I had these wonderful expectations to have a relaxing three weeks to prepare for Baby. We were both exhausted - I had just finished my last semester in the English program at Eastern Michigan, while Josh completed his last final for law school on Friday evening and attended Commencement on Saturday morning. Initially, I had intended to work until the end of the month, but on Wednesday of the same week, I came down with an awful cold, which when compounded with pregnancy symptoms, turned into a pretty hellish situation. My amazing boss called the situation for what is was and helped to make my last day the same Friday before graduation.

So most of the family that came into town for graduation left by Sunday night. May 17th. We invited Josh's mom to stay with us until Tuesday because the midwife was coming over for a visit and we wanted Mom to be around for that. Well, she certainly was around and for much more than any of us anticipated at the time! That Sunday night, as we sat around and visited with my Dad and Josh's Mom, we started timing contractions between 8 and 10 minutes apart, but after awhile, I got bored and stopped. After all, this baby wasn't due for another 3 weeks, right? :) Monday the 18th was a beautiful day - the sun was shining and we went to the Law School for Mass, after which I met my Dad for lunch. I think that awesome latte I had then had something to do with Miss Greta's early entrance!

Anyhow, we went to bed around 1am on what was then Tuesday morning, the 19th. Josh went to sleep immediately, but my contractions were too strong and too regular for me to fall asleep. So I lay still and worked on my breathing and relaxation, just as a good Bradley student should. This went on for about 2 hours. Then, out of nowhere, the contractions became really hard and painful. There was just no way I could breath through anything. At about 3am, I woke Josh up and gave him some very mixed signals about rubbing my back or not rubbing my back. That and saying "Hail Marys"... something about the rhythmic words of the prayer was very soothing. This went on for half an hour. All this time, however, I didn't think I was in labor. I was totally convinced that I was going through false labor and that somehow, the painful contractions were going to go away at some point. Furthermore, I was determined NOT to be one of those hyper young mothers who called her midwife out of the house at 3am for false labor! Plus, Josh kept reminding me that my water wasn't broken so I "couldn't be in labor." Give us credit, though... it was 3 am and we were ridiculously tired.

All of a sudden, I started shaking all over uncontrollably. Something in the back of mind recalled a sentence in the Bradley book about "transition" and shaking being a sign of transitioning in the the pushing stage of labor. So I told Josh call our midwife. Something told me that "something" was going on and it was going to be messy. I recall very calming telling Josh that I was going to sit on the toilet in case my water broke, to please pick up the rugs in the bedroom and bathroom, and to tell his Mom to call my parents and tell them to pray because I think I'm in labor.

Well, I sat on the toilet and immediately there was this little pop and my water broke. I felt this huge pressure "down there" and I just pushed without even meaning to. It was the craziest feeling in the world. I screamed so loud that I thought my throat was going to tear. It was frightening, relieving, exciting, painful and shattering, all at the same time. If ever there was a moment when I absolutely loved and admired my husband, it was then. Immediately after I stopped yelling, the first thought through my head was "Oh no, Josh is not going to like me screaming. But damn! if he tries to make me stop!!!" The things your mind latches on to at moments like this.... But my husbandly hero didn't visibly flinch, although later he said he was wondering how long the night would be if this continued. He knelt down next to me and put his arms around me. He started to slowly rub my back and I settled my head into his warm shoulder. And my favorite part of this whole experience happened. I suddenly felt to relaxed and pain-free, as if I was unconscious and just floating away. My whole body untensed and for a moment, I was somewhere else. In retrospect, I guess this relaxation let the baby out because seconds later, I heard myself scream again and jump off the toilet, yelling for Josh to "grab the baby!!! she's coming out!!!"

And that's how Greta narrowly missed entering the world via the toilet.

I grabbed her and then Josh grabbed, too. I will never forget the emotion in his voice as he cried, "She's here, she's here!" And I saved my placenta from being yanked out as I reminded Josh that "She's still attached"... he being prepared to run down the hallway with Greta to show her to his Mom. :)

For the next 15 minutes, we wrapped our daughter in a towel and held her to my chest. She was so little, warm, greasy and dark haired! Man, that child has a lot hair! I was in total disbelief and shock as I held her. I didn't even feel like I had given birth; it had happened so quickly. The pushing stage (all two pushes) lasted no more than 10 minutes. 15 minutes later, our midwife arrived. Very vaguely, I remember Josh cutting the cord... me pushing out the placenta, showering, being incredibly dizzy, changing, nursing Greta, getting into bed, pictures being taken... and I really don't remember anything until I woke up around noon and ate about 4 eggs with toast. MMMMM!

And that's how it happened.