Day of Birth

Today is my daughter's birthday, or as I often tell her, it is the anniversary of my suffering. It is fortunate that women are able to pretty much block out all memory of labor and delivery or none of us would ever have a second child.

The day before giving birth I woke up before dawn aware of intermittent back pains and cramps. I got up and walked around trying to decide if this was really labor. If this was it was it wasn't so bad. I had fixed myself some coffee when my husband came out ready for work. He asked why I was up so early and I told him that I was in labor. He went pale, sat done and asked what he should do. I told him it was going to be a long process and to go on to work. He did, but he was home before noon, saying there was no way he could concentrate. He wanted to be home. I thought things were progressing nicely and we left for the hospital later in the afternoon.

I had worked in labor and delivery until hospital policy required me to resign after my second trimester. I knew the staff and the routines well. I was excited, but not too nervous as we went through the admission process. The hospital was a big, modern teaching facility. It was a very progressive place allowing fathers in the labor area. It was a long labor. The pain was far greater than I had expected. At one point a young nurse came in and told me that if I just took long, slow breaths it wouldn't hurt so much. I was tempted to hit her, except I could remember saying the same thing to patients I had cared for when I had worked there. At one point my husband assured me he would do everything else if I had the babies instead of him. Finally the next afternoon it was time for delivery. My husband was sent to the waiting room. Fathers were not permitted in the delivery room. I was given an epidural that brought sweet relief from the pain. As the nurses moved me from the gurney to the delivery table my leg slipped down and prevented me from getting where I needed to be. I remember seeing my leg hanging there and thinking how strange it was that I could neither feel nor move my leg. Finally I was on the delivery table. Then a miracle happened and my beautiful, perfect baby girl was placed in my arms.

The baby and I were checked out, pronounced healthy, cleaned up and placed in my hospital bed to be transported to my room. My husband met us as we rolled down the hallway. He kissed me and then just stared at the little face staring back at him. Finally he said that he had never seen such big beautiful eyes in a baby. Then he asked if this beautiful creature was a boy or a girl. He was thrilled to be the father of a daughter.

The lifetime of joy and love that little girl and her sister and brothers have brought us far outweigh any of the pain of childbirth.