I woke up, five days overdue, determined to meet our son. I had been having pretty consistent contractions since the night before and was doing all I could to keep them going. We headed on foot to the local coffee shop at about 6:00 am and after walking about 1.5 miles we arrived back at the house, contractions still coming... but not in a way that I thought would birth a baby. But maybe - I speculated - this isn't as bad as some people make it seem.
Fast forward about 8 hours. We were at the hospital, checked in and waiting for our son to make his arrival. It felt surreal - it still does as I remember it. We had been to ALL the classes, and taking what we learned very seriously, we had packed our bags with games, magazines, music, movies - we were all set to have a delightful birthing experience. I thought that perhaps I'd even do it without pain medication. HA!
The surreal feeling continued as I agreed to an epidural relatively early on in the process - and as I developed complications that would require an emergency c-section. The memories from this part are somewhat disjointed, scary, a little panicked - and then, finally, the most intense relief and emotion I had ever felt (similar to getting that OUT of PGN phone call for those of you in the Guat adoption world). "Is he OK?" I cried, "Yes, he's perfect. He's huge. And he's perfect," my husband kept replying.
And he was - perfect. We had a couple names picked out - but when we met him - we knew right away which one was for him. He stared up at me when I held him that night. He was all swaddled up with a little hat on and about all I could see were his incredible blue eyes that looked so wise for this newborn baby. Now at four years old - he can still look at me with those eyes and capture my heart and attention in a mere second. I look back at him with wonder and I ask myself how I got so lucky. My little guy's answer is always, "God must really love you." I have struggled some with religion - but our two children are all the evidence I need to know that miracles happen and that, yes, God must really love me.
Happy Birthday, Brother! We love you, snuv you all the time.