The day I went into labor, I arrived at work and snatched nail polish off Ashley’s desk, some instinctively told me to paint my toe nails. For the past week, I just wasn’t feeling well. It probably didn’t help that I cut up about 100 onions and peppers in 100 degree heat for a neighborhood event with work the week before or going to the car wash and vacuuming out my car with my gigantic belly. You could say that this burst of energy was me forcing my body to move around and get the baby out. Needless to say, I was also mentally preparing reluctantly telling my due date “September 14th, but I’m aiming for the end of August.” Ha! If you want it badly enough and focus your energy hard enough, then what you want can happen.
So back to the labor story, I noticed the tightening of my belly was pretty regular, but my water broke during my first pregnancy, so I was unsure as to whether or not these were practice contractions or the real deal. Just to be sure, I made out a list of my job responsibilities and told my boss, “I may not be here tomorrow.” His reply was a deer in headlights stair and then an “okay.”
Later that evening, I decided to write down the times of the contractions. They were consistently 7 to 10 minutes apart. I really didn’t want to be the girl that goes to the hospital and gets sent home. I also did not want to have the baby in the middle of the night and have no babysitter. We ate dinner, pizza, my dad came over, and then we were off to the hospital. Good thing I pre registered last Friday.
At the hospital, the nurse hooked me up to the monitor and observed me for about an hour. They decided to keep me over night and the next day they started pitocin and Olivia entered into the world just before 2 o’clock.
My doctor is great. Just as Olivia’s head was out I heard, “this baby is a moose.” This from the same woman who diagnosed my swelling as “cankles.” I suppose she was a bit of a moose. She was almost three weeks early and weighed 8lbs and 1oz. Funny, the guy cleaning her up said she was already rooting. Just like her mother, this girl likes to eat.
As I gazed at my daughter, the bonding falling in love moment was interrupted by, “there is a bit of a tear.” AUGH! For the love of God, this was the fear that I had most going into this thing. I had a 4 degree tear
with Boden, which took a long time to heal and had some further effects that I care not to describe.
My head snapped off the team of the guy who was cleaning her up and my mom and Ashley who gathered around the baby. “What degree!?”
“It is another four degree.” She said solemnly knowing that the news would be crushing to me.
“When can we set up some time to fix it? Do I get all of it done after six weeks?”
“I’m going to try to fix it now.”
The bonding moment that I had really didn’t come until we were able to spend our first night together. In the quiet darkness, we bonded. How could you not bond with a baby who comes out smiling?