I remember the day I decided that I needed a baby. I had just had an early miscarriage and desperately wanted to be a mother. I quit taking my birth control and told Frank it was up to him to not be a dad. He could use condoms if he wanted but I was ready to take on this new adventure.
I miscarried on August 16th and concieved Reason September 30th. Frank was on the road working on October 15th when I found out. I can’t keep a secret so I called him immediately. I was very excited but nervous, I was scared something would go wrong again… My pregnancy was fairly typical aside from my raising blood pressure and a few minor complications. I wanted a natural labor desperately but it was not to be. Everything started out textbook perfect, I lost my mucus plug the night of June 19th and had my bloody show the following morning. My contractions started around 10ish. I was in denial and went about my day as normal. Frank got off work early and was home around noon. We went for a drive to coax Miss Reason out and went swimming at my grandmother’s pool. We went to Walmart and bought spicy wings and hot sauce, a pineapple, and the ingredients for a delicious pork loin. (I would later regret these meal choices.) I had a couple friends over to share our abundance of food. They went home that night and at exactly midnight my water broke. Me, being the brillant woman I am, was almost sure I had peed my pants. Frank and I took a shower where I had another woosh of water that failed to convince me, I then put on a pad that overflowed with the third and final woosh.
I called my mom once I was certain this was it and we were off to the hospital. I had my water checked and we confirmed that she was coming. I was dilated to a two when we arrived but I didn’t think it would be too much of a wait for my daughter to be here. I was wrong.
I got a heplock so I would have unrestricted movement and took out my music so my mom and I could walk/dance down the halls in order to convince my sweet girl that she was missing out by being stuck inside. We kept having to stop so they could monitor my contractions and her heart rate, plus check my cervix which was stubbornly still at a two. My contractions started getting so bad I was puking but I still refused to anti-nausea medicine because it was administered through an IV. I spent sometime taking a shower and letting the hot water hit my back. The next time I laid down so I could be monitored I was falling asleep between contractions. After I had still not made progress my doctor told me she didn’t think I’d be getting the birth I longed for. I was given 1 more hour to walk the halls and do squats but she wouldn’t come. I finally allowed them to give me the epidural. If I had known I would end up getting cut open I would have taken it when we got there! I went from being very snappy and trying to chuck things at Frank to being mellow and carefree. After about an hour I was finally wheeled into the operating room. I was quickly introduced to the operating staff and switched from my bed to the surgery one. Frank held my hand the entire time.
He peered over the curtain as they cut into my stomach and pulled out our beautiful baby girl. My eyes welled up with tears when I first heard her cry. I only got to see her and kiss her for a second before daddy and Reason were sent to the other room to get cleaned up and measured. My doctor told me my fallopian tubes looked just like little flowers. I thought it was the strangest and funniest thing I had ever heard.
Less than 30 minutes later my daughter was brought to me in recovery and we nursed for the first time. I’ll never forget the feeling of that moment. She was so soft 7lbs 8.8 oz of perfection. 18 inches just long enough to fill my heart with love and adoration.
The day I became her mother was the best day of my life. 13 1/2 Hours after my water broke my stubborn girl came into this world precisely how I didn’t want her to.
She always had her own idea about how things should be and taught me that nothing would ever go as planned, no matter how many books I read or how many hours I spend reading articles online. She left me the same way, exactly how she shouldn’t have on the anniversary of the worst night of my life until that point. Nov. 11th 2010 I was raped at a party 4 years later on Nov. 11th 2014 my daughter died. Funny how life works, isn’t it? Who would have guessed I’d be a twenty-two year old woman with such a story to tell?