Will It Ever Come OUT? (pt.3)

Many thanks to my blog designer. Since I screwed things up trying to update my links on my own, she came to my rescue (per her usual habit) and returned my blog to it's former beauty.

I am glad someone is reading though this after putting in all the effort to get it down on paper-er cyber paper anyway. (Feel free to offer a critique of my writing. Are the thoughts flowing freely? Is it interesting? Are you bored, and just skimming to the end to see what happens? Have I made a lot of grammar errors? Have I managed to create mildly entertaining word pictures?) My best girl friend says yours truly is a competent writer. I will admit a certain love of the creative process, however I rather doubt my talent. I know you all just keep coming back because I visit you for your information, your fantastic sense of humor, and the encouraging friendships of the global community. It's just a reciprocal thing, right? (Not that I have a problem with the polite return visit.)

Tuesday, August 18th 199-.
I had just turned 30 years old, been married two years, and there I am, flat on my back, feet in the air, waiting for the baby to come out. We didn't know if baby would be a boy or a girl, and were prepared with two names. One of the nurses thought for sure it was a girl, since they are so troublesome at these things.
I was still very tired and not quite myself. Focused on the job still waiting to be done. I could feel the contractions, waves of building pressure. The desire for no more pain was paramount in my mind but one shot of the epidural was all I received. Even now it seems like a weakness. (Foolish, I know, but there it is.) I was checked again, and Thank the Lord above, I was dilated to a ten.
There was movement in the room, bustling bodies. My husband woke up. My Grandmother the Duchess came in, she answered the phone. My mom, calling from out of state to check on me. Phone calls had been made during my stay in the hospital, but all of those inane conversations are very dim now. I had a list, attached to my birth plan regarding who to call and when.
This part is all blurry. My legs held by a nurse and my husband, bending me in half. My Grandma on the phone to my mom. The midwife telling me it was time to push. The introduction of a new kind of pain, previously unknown yet just as powerful. My utter helplessness, a prisoner to my body.
How can something so incredibly painful, so singularly vulnerable, be so astoundingly beautiful?
I screamed and I yelled. Even though the books tell you not to. I did it though my clenched teeth. I believe this is when I broke a blood vessel on my face, a tiny on near my mouth that wasn't there before. I bore down into each powerful wave of a contraction, pushing down on a tearing, burning pain. My Grandma awed. My husband crying. Everyone in the hospital could hear me scream,"Lord help me NOW!"
The baby's head came out.
I could hear my mom's tinny voice screaming on the phone. "What's happening?! What's happening?!"
I pushed and pushed and pushed. And then I was ready to be done. I got up on my elbows. "I want to go home now."
The midwife said, "You need to push this baby out now!"
"The baby isn't out yet? Why isn't the baby out yet?"
"Push NOW." Her voice filled with urgency.
Once more I thought. Then I am done.
Once more was all it took. At 4:30 P.M on a Tuesday my son was born. They placed him on my deflated bulge of a belly. He was purple/blue. We rubbed at him and cooed. I can't remember if he cried. Selfishly, I only remember my husbands tears, the feel of that small 8pound 9oz bundle, the smell of the hospital.
It was such an amazing experience. I had to repeat it twenty months later.



  1. I have enjoyed your writing since high school when you would occasionally include poems and stories in the letters we passed each other in between classes. I read your blog because I still enjoy your writing. I am also glad that you take pity on my poor little blog and stop by to read it. That was a great birth story. I admit that I was a little afraid you were going to leave us in the air yet another day. I am glad you didn't.

  2. I have you added to my google reader because I enjoy your writing too.

    A boy! So was my first. I also remember my husband's tears.

  3. Anonymous6:48 AM

    heh, heh, heh!! We oft repeat this birthing thing. Go figure!! Great post. Fluidity to your writing; fear not! Thank you for adding my in your social visits ;)!

  4. Good morning.

    Your writing looks good to me. Sorry I haven't been around more though. I do get your comments and thank you.

  5. Yup, I'm glad I'm a dude. Sorry, that's all I can muster right now.


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