theatokos | One Year, take two (Reply)

One year ago at this time I was delirious. It's hard to remember what happened in what order after Bennett's birth. The birthing part and the event leading up to it are quite clear.

Adam and I had gone to a 5pm showing of the Indiana Jones movie. My water broke 10 minutes in. At first I thought "Why did I just pee on myself? Why would I do that?" Then I realized that I had engaged nothing and I had a suspicion in the back of my head. I went to the bathroom and as I pulled down my leggings (black leggings under a black skirt - never has an outfit been a better choice) a torrent of clear fluid splashed all over the floor. "Sorry, random theatre employee," I thought. I knew what was happening. Adam had put his hand on my seat and had felt the large wet spot and he knew too.

Riding the BART two stops home, I had water trickling down my legs, pooling in my shoes. It was 6 weeks prior to our earliest due date. We knew we would not be birthing at the birth center. We knew we had 24 hours to deliver our premature child.

At home, I cleaned up as best I could. We made phone calls to loved ones and the midwife. She said she'd meet us at the hospital - which is only 10 blocks from us. We packed a bag. Light contractions started. At one point Adam and I stood in the bedroom, clutching each other, crying, because we were afraid. All the labor signs seemed normal. I felt fine. I hadn't had a single problem with pregnancy. Why would the baby come early? We didn't want a c-section.

An hour later we were at the hospital. Over the next 6 hours I went through all the stages of labor, amazingly left alone (thank you midwives and husband for keeping hospital staff to a mimium!), sense of humor and manners intact. We were lucky to be able to have an intervention free, natural childbirth. Holy lord, it was the hardest physical task I have ever undertaken. Not having eaten for well over 12 hours, not having slept, I was ready to pass out. As soon as the baby was out, I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes in relief. My midwife grabbed my arm and shook me. "Wake up! WAKE UP! It's your BABY!"

I vaguely remember Adam cutting the cord. I vaguely remember this tiny little alien being set to rest on my belly. After this everything is a blur. I have two distinct memories of the first 24 hours post-birth though. The first is an overwhelming desire for my son. Every trace of ambivalence over him being a boy and not a girl vanished. I wanted nothing but my son as he was. The second memory is of my first visit to the NICU. I don't know if I'd slept at that point. But I remember entering the NICU and my first thought was "Where is my baby?" A sea of beds and machines and wires greeted me. Nurses, mothers, but which one was my baby? It was one of the worst feelings I've ever felt. My baby was some where in the maze of rooms, but I didn't know where he was. Would I even recognize him?

The next four weeks and one day - though now a distant memory - were like 4 months to me. Each day was a week, each week a lifetime. Our perfect, tiny, happy and healthy son finally came home and we haven't looked back. Now, our little guy is crawling and walking and babbling. One year later he is absurdly healthy. Since coming home 11 months ago he's had one cold! All of the breastfeeding drama worked itself out and at 12 months we are still breastfeeding, some days less, some days more.

The first year passes so quickly - and thank goodness for that! As precious as those early months are, they are unbelievably taxing. I am finally rested. My brain is back. My body is recovered, though I haven't lost all the baby weight like I'd hoped (of course, I refuse to diet, so there's that). I am irrevocably altered, and I wouldn't change my life for anything.

Today we are heading to a park in Berkeley for a BBQ (sun, you can come out now, please). Adam's parents are flying up from San Diego for the day. There will be pictures later.

I am really, truly happy.