There are many things that I remember about the day and the night surrounding the birth of my daughter. I remember that it was raining, a cold, drizzling rain. I remember going to see my OB/GYN for a late afternoon appointment. I remember my feet were swollen up like balloons and that I was wearing these oversized rope sandals because they were only thing comfortable. I remember walking across the cold pavement and not really feeling the cold at all.
I remember that the doctor’s office was unusually busy and that every chair held a pregnant woman in varying stages of pregnancy. I remember my favorite nurse coming out to exclaim over my feet and how she took me back into the doctor’s office so I could have a place to sit down. I remember that my blood pressure was running high and that the doctor came in to examine me immediately.
I’d been dilated for over two months, but now I was 5 cm dilated and my blood pressure was high. They were going to induce. They wanted me to drive straight to the hospital and have my husband meet me there. I didn’t do that, instead I went home to get him rather than calling him on a cold, dark drizzly night. 90 minutes later we were at the hospital together, checking in. They got me settled into a room and they got me hooked up to an IV and I answered the five million questions they had for me – including some pretty bizarre ones about whether or not my husband abused me.
I get that they’re supposed to do that, but it was still pretty surreal. We watched Mask of Zorro on my little DVD player while we waited for the baby to get moving. The doctor broke my water, I dozed on and off through the night and it wasn’t until 4 a.m. when they told me to start really pushing.
Three hours later, at 7:01 a.m. my daughter finally emerged. They laid her on my stomach and she pooped. I laughed and said she was off to a fine start and the doctor agreed. She scored high on her Apgar tests and as exhausted as I was, I couldn’t stop watching her as they cleaned her up. They wrapped her in the white blanket with its blue stripe and my husband stayed with her as the doctor finished taking care of me.
A few precious minutes later they put her in my arms and a nurse introduced herself who was going to be taking me to my room. She was an older woman, very dry and witty and I remember she asked me how I was doing and I said pretty well. Then she said she asked this question of every mother she took care of in the hospital – what did I know now after having the baby that I didn’t know before?
“I didn’t realize babies came with hats.”
What did you know after having your baby that you didn’t know before?
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