Welcome home, Baby Lucy.  It’s about time, girl.

November 6th, 2008.  It’s my due date.  My sweet hubby, Johnny, wakes me and hands me a package, “Happy birthday, Sweetie.”  My first thought is “damn, I’m still pregnant.”  I open the package to find a big red fluffy robe and a pair of red p.j.’s with little Scottie dogs on them.  Now my wardrobe matched the rest of my body: big and lumpy.  “I thought you could use these soon.”  “But will I ever?” I thought.  I just knew this baby would be here by now; in fact, I knew the little thing would arrive two weeks earlier than today.  Jennifer checked me during today’s prenatal visit.  “Sorry Girlie, no change.”

November 7th.  Walking, walking, walking.  I’ve walked our gravel road every day for almost a solid month, but this day is different.  It’s warm, sunny, and the wind promises me that today would be the day.  My Braxton-Hicks contractions are stronger while walking.  They’ve been on and off for a few weeks.

November 8th.  Johnny has had a head cold for almost two weeks.  Now I’m sick.

November 9th.  “Jennifer, when will this baby come?”  She calmly informed me that babies usually wait until mom’s all better before they make their arrival.

November 10th.  Still walking, still sick.  And the phone calls from the family won’t stop.  “When are you going to have this baby?  Come on now!  Are you even having any pains?”  “Pains,” I love it.

November 11th.  No change from yesterday, or the day before that.

November 12th.  Maria calls this morning to see if I’m showing any signs that the baby is coming today so that she can arrange for childcare while Pritham is out of town.  “No, nothing.  I feel worse today than I have all week.  I’m going to town today for some meds.  I’ve got to get over this thing” She suggested lots of garlic and lots of ginger.  I finally finished the receiving blanket today, the one made from fabric squares from my blessing way.  It came together pretty nicely, really. 

I’m not having this baby any time soon; I’ve accepted that.  It’s time to focus on getting me well.  Off to town.  First stop: the natural food store for tea.  “Is this your first baby? When are you due? You’ve got to walk, walk, walk.  That’ll make that baby come” 

“I know that, okay?  That’s what I do.  I’m sick, you know.” 

Then to Wal-mart to buy a chicken for soup and some Sudafed.  “Whoa.  When are you due?”

“A freakin’ week ago.  I’m sick, you know.”      

Home for a brief pity party and a nap.  At four o’clock, I lost my mucus plug. 

“Hmm.  Okay, but it could still be a while.  I’m not having this baby until I’m all better.”  Chicken soup, tea, juice, rest.  No walking today, just rest.

November 13th.  2:15 a.m. I got up to use the bathroom again, just like I do several times each night.  But this time I woke with a terribly strong pain.  “I ate something really wrong; I think I have food poisoning.  I’ve got to go to the bathroom right now,” I thought.  But before I got there, the cramping was gone.  “I’ll sit in the living room in my fluffy red robe and have a big glass of water before going back to bed.  Oh God!  There it is again.”  I looked up at the clock.  The next one came two minutes later.  “Could this be it?  No way!  I’m not ready!”

I drew a warm bath and went to the toilet.  “Ooh, there’s another one; that hurts.”  I lied in the bath through a few more contractions then woke Johnny.  “Sweetie, I think we’re having a baby now.”

He sat up slowly, thinking this was the beginning of a very long day of labor, “I’ll put on some coffee and time contractions.”  We had plans for this day; we were going to go for short walks, play our favorite board games, bond over a movie a two, and breathe through long-spaced-out contractions.  We had snacks prepared.  Because of what we learned in childbirth class we were prepared to spend a long day together getting ready for the arrival of our little one, but that’s not at all what we had on tap.

We didn’t know how to feel.  I followed him into the kitchen.  He followed me into the bedroom, into the living room, into the nursery.  I stopped in doorways to brace myself, lied on the bed, sat on an exercise ball…nothing eased those contractions.  He was right there with me. 

His coffee smelled terrible.  “You have to make sure I drink enough water.  Are we really about to have a baby?  When do we call Jennifer?  How far apart are the…(hang on! Ooooh!)...contractions?  You’ve got to find my comfy black panties and nightgown.”  He looked perplexed. “Just because!  Where’s my birth necklace?  Oh God, Johnny!  I’m going back to the bathtub.”

I somehow felt more comfortable in the smallest room in the house, where I was lying in the tub wearing only my birth necklace.  I have no idea what the water temperature was that morning.  Johnny quietly opened the door and came in.  “Are we ready to call Jennifer?  Are you having another one now?  Okay, that was a minute and a half, lasting 25 seconds.  I think we should call her now.”

There were long pauses during that phone conversation.  The contractions disappeared while we spoke.  She asked what I did that day, how I felt right then, where I was, how far apart the contractions were, did I have any show, did she want me to come out yet.  We decided I would call her back if I had more show and the contractions lasted longer.  Just as we hung up the show began and the contractions were stronger and lasted longer.  Johnny called her back, “she’s on her way.”

“Okay Johnny, this is what you have to do.  Go through the house and turn out all the overhead lights, turn on the lamps and light all the candles from my blessingway.” 

“But we only have one lamp, Sweetie.”

“What?  No!  We have two in the kitchen, three in our bedroom…..just do it, okay!?”

My sweet husband came back into the bathroom after carrying out this most important task, of which I would actually never see.  I didn’t come out of that bathroom until after the full moon gave way to the morning sunshine.  After looking back, I realized that I was in the only room with glaring bright lights while the rest of the house was lit with only candles and lamps.  This is the only thing I would have changed about my little girl’s birth.

Johnny sat on the toilet and the side of the tub and held my hand while I rode out the intensity.  They built up and sank away.  I even slept between them twice.  I thought about a favorite beach in Equador that I imagine when I need to get away, Mompiche.  I put myself there until the big wave crashed before me and woke me.  Another thought was of Johnny’s parents’ wedding.  Not sure why, but that was what I thought about.  The intensity of these contractions.  I knew they were coming and there was nothing I could do to stop or slow them.

“She’s here,” said Johnny.  We were both extremely relieved to see Jennifer.  It felt solid to hug her.  She had on her fuzzy house shoes.  I cried.  I’ve known this woman for years, but never like this.  I looked forward to sharing this moment with her.  Johnny said she hobbled on in the house like a trooper with her bum knee, oxygen tank, and large quantity of gear.

She checked my body’s progress periodically.  She kept me calm.  She fished all kinds of things out of my bath water.  Johnny held my hand while hoping I wouldn’t bite it off.  Maria arrived and listened to my screaming and read my tightening facial expressions.

The head emerged.  The water bag was still intact.  Jennifer punctured it and pulled it over the baby’s head.  I screamed like I’ve never heard before.  “Come on out, baby!  It’s time for you to meet the world now!  Come on out of me!”

I pushed hard.  I got up onto my knees, raised one leg, and pushed so hard.  Someone drained the water out of the tub.

6:21am.  Jennifer’s welcomed words: “Okay, reach down and grab your baby.”

“What?  Oh, there’s a baby?  Okay!”  The pain was gone.  I felt incredible! I felt limber, energetic and alive!  I looked down and grabbed the little thing. 

My first thought was, “that’s not my baby!  This baby is so dark-complected, such long hair, so chunky, and mad!”  I held this little baby tight on my chest.  This is the being that had been kicking my side for months, taking all the nutrients from my food before I could, made my back ache, and completely changed the path of my life.  Just 10 months ago I was single, living in own home, doing what impulsively came to mind. 

SO MUCH, SO FAST!

After holding her for a timeless moment, I looked her over.  “I guess we better look to make sure he’s a boy.  Whoa!  She’s a girl!”  I think my smile took up my entire face and my breathing instantly went back to normal.  I was glad we had a girl.  A baby girl, born under a full Scorpio moon, followed by a bright sunny day.  I handed this incredibly powerful little treasure to Johnny, “we have a baby.” 

The rest of the morning paled to that very moment.  My body and mind were full of adrenaline.  I know little Lucille Mae was weighed and measured, I ate a fruit salad with walnuts, Lucy and I took a bath together, she nursed, I saw more pride in Johnny than I’ve ever seen, his parents came over and took the cord blood to town, some friends came over, Johnny cut the cord, the placenta was born in the bath tub, I smelled like garlic, I bled, Jennifer stitched me up, we slept, Johnny’s son came over, my family arrived.

The two weeks that followed were, hands down, the most difficult of my life.  The next two were a little easier, then the fun began.  Overall, this experience was incredible.  Being home was priceless.   

Lucille Mae Four Months Old