10:01 p.m. - 2006-10-19
Month One
Dear Madeleine,
Today is October 18, 2006, the day you were estimated to join us in the world. Instead, you surprised me by coming to be with us five days ago, and for that, I am so thankful. I was getting anxious waiting to meet you.
October 14 is instead the day that changed my life forever. It started on the 13th, though, when I went into labpr around 8:00 pm that night. I had experienced false labor earlier in the week, but this time, I knew it was different. After getting through some tough contractions while your dad and I watched baseball playoff games, I decided to call the doctor, who told me to take a quick shower, pack my bag and head to the hospital. That directive made me so anxious, because I knew this was really happening, but also so excited, because I was that much closer to meeting you. As we left the house, I took one last look around, realizing that this would be the last time I was in this house without you in my life.
We arrived at the hospital just after 10:00 pm, and I was wheeled up to Labor & Delivery in a wheelchair. We passed by several people who wished us luck, which I thought was so sweet.
In L&D, we were shown to a really nice room, kind of a cross between a hospital room and a hotel room. I was hooked up to an IV, and just after midnight, when the pain was getting much worse, I was given an epidural. It was scary, but I felt so much better afterward, and I could even relax somewhat.
For the next couple of hours, your dad and I tried to sleep, while the very sweet nurse on call kept coming in to check on me. I was 3 centimeters dilated when I arrived, but by 2:00 am, I still hadn't progressed very far, so they gave me Pitocin in the IV to speed up the contractions. I drifted in and out of sleep for a while, until the contractions became so intense that I could feel them through the medicine. I had a little push button nearby that I could use to get an extra dose of the medication every 15 minutes, and I spent the hours counting the minutes until I could have the next dose. The doctor estimated at this point that you would likely make your arrival around noon.
Around 4:30 am, the nurse checked me again and told me that I was fully dilated and would be ready to start pushing soon. Apparently, the Pitocin had done the trick, which was good, but knowing that I was that much closer to actually delivering you started to make me anxious.
By about 5:15, I started the pushing process. With each contraction, the nurse held one of my legs up and your dad held the other, while I took deep breaths and pushed like I never had in all my life. It was exhausting work, and I kept it up until about 6:30. That's when the doctor came in to deliver you. With a few more pushes, I started to feel your head make its way out of my body, and at 6:52 am, just as the sun started making its way up into the sky, you emerged. The doctor held you up for me to see and put you on my chest; I cried as I never have before.
This is all the "what happened" behind your birth story, but what I haven't conveyed to you is how it all feels. And that's mostly because the emotions I have surrounding your arrival into my life are among the most intense I have ever felt.
Pumpkin, it's nearly impossible to describe what the past few days have been like. I never knew until now what it was like to have overwhelming, immediate love for someone like I have for you. To say that you are a precious gift and a blessing beyond belief doesn't even come close to describing the enormity of you -- you, in the most perfect, teensy package.
I can't stop staring at you; can't stop cradling your tiny head with its shock of brown hair in my hands; can't stop kissing your small, delicate feet; can't stop marveling at your perfect little ears or gazing into your big grey-blue eyes. Though it's cliche, I can only describe your adorable nose (which comes from your father) as "button" and your sweet little mouth as "rosebud." Every minute of my life is consumed by you, in the most beautiful way possible. Though I'm exhausted, I hesitate to sleep, because when I awaken, you will be just a little bit older, and right now, I can't bear to miss out on a single second of your life.
It was a long road to get you here, and at times I wondered if it would be worth it, and if it would ever happen. But you did -- you happened, and you are so, so worth it.
Madeleine, you are my precious Pumpkin that I have longed for all my life, and I look forward to being in your life every single day. Thank you for coming to be with me.
I love you always.
Love,
Mommy
