A birth story

Three years ago today, I was still still pregnant. I didn't know it would be the last day though. I had fleeting thoughts that I might just stay pregnant forever. I was so worried about labor and delivery - so clueless about the journey I was about to embark on.

 It's funny how this birth story is much more my story than his. All the details permanently etched not only in my mind, but seared into my soul, and visible on my body. To him, his birth will be a story that he is told - he'll know the pertinent details (day, time, weight, length - the harrowing ride through the snow) but this story is really mine.  My life will always be divided into before and after that day three years ago.




Is he a baby or a little old man?

My pregnancy was easy and uneventful. I loved being pregnant. I felt great, never threw up or even had swollen ankles.  I continued to work in labor and delivery until a week before my due date, watching the myriad of ways other women birthed and wondering how I would do.

I'll spare you the details of how my beloved midwife jump started my labor and spared me the induction by pitocin - but I will tell you castor oil worked for me. And, I'll never drink another smoothie from Dunkin's again. In my life.

I labored at home for several hours, knitting and watching Harry Potter. When things kicked in to high gear - we drove on icy January roads the 25 minutes to the hospital. I was cared for by my very own co-workers and there were lots of laughs when we turned on "Eye of the tiger" when it was time to push.

Don't hate me but I am blessed with a wide pelvis and only pushed a few times. My beloved midwife helped Hubs catch his firstborn son.

He was wee. Six pounds nine ounces.

He took us to Children's Hospital in Boston to rule out a bowel obstruction, but he was fine. A mother's first lesson in true fear, and how the maternal instinct to protect a child is so strong I could have fought off a bear, but instead I had to hand him over to strangers and plug myself in to a breast pump.




The biggest kid in the NICU.

And that's the story. We came home a few days later, a family.




At long last, a mother.
I had no freakin' clue what I was getting myself into.