November 2nd

The other day someone asked me how old Grace is.  I replied, “She’ll be one on Monday!”  Except, it didn’t come out like a nonchalant, factual answer…it was like a half choked-out sob covered by a semi hysterical laugh, “SHE’LLBEONEONMONDAY!!!!” I sounded like a donkey.

Cutest. Baby. Ever

The emotion of that statement caught me completely off guard and surprised me (once again) at how poignant, how visceral it is to be a mom.  It really got me thinking.  Many things.

1.  This past year has been the most profound year of my life.

2.  I’ve always had a lot of feelings but I might be a little more cooky than I thought.

I’m sitting in my living room now, surrounded by the debris from Grace’s birthday party, and I’m reflecting on the day she was born.

November 2^nd, 2013.  The Badgers played Iowa. We decided to take advantage of our last Saturday afternoon as just a couple, since I was going to be induced on November 6^th if Gracie decided she didn’t want to be born before then.  We were going to go out for coffee, maybe see a movie, pick up a few essentials to really be “ready” for Grace’s arrival. 

As we were making these plans, a small voice in the back of my brain said, “hey dumdum, you’re not doing anything today.  You feel that tightening in your belly?  That’s called a contraction. Don’t believe me? Here’s another one.”

I willfully ignored that voice because I WANTED ONE LAST DAY.

First stop on our last day?  Drop Georgia the dog off at her Grandma’s.  The tightening in my belly was getting a little more intense, but I paid it no heed.  I’m a tough cookie.  And I wanted movie theatre popcorn.  While we were chatting with my mom and sisters, I mentioned that I was having some contractions, but we were going to go have some fun, just a couple of crazy kids on a Saturday afternoon. My mom noticed my hands curling around the countertop as I was explaining how fun it was going to be to see one last movie just the two of us.  And she, sensei Karen, said, “you’re having a baby today.”   As soon as the words were uttered, the gauntlet was dropped and I realized holy sh*t, I am in labor.

The next hours were a blur…coffee date? Sure let’s try it. Nope can’t drink that get it out of my face.

Maybe we should time these contractions?

Shopping? Sure let’s try it. Fail.

There’s a contraction app? There are multiple contraction apps?  I don’t give a #@%& which app you choose just pick one and TIME THEM!

Sure, let’s watch a movie, I can totally focus on something for three minutes and then I’m going to have to focus on my contracting uterus.

SERIOUSLY TURN DOWN THE VOLUME HOW MANY DIE HARDS ARE THERE AND WHY IS HE STILL ALIVE AFTER ALL THAT SHOOTING? TURN IT DOWN! 

It was after midnight when we went to the hospital.  The nurse checked me (4cm dilated!) and I was admitted. The whole thing was surreal…I was so paranoid about being sent home that once I finally got admitted I didn’t really know what to do with myself.  Luckily I had an awesome nurse who talked me into an epidural (after 2 hours of contractions with no progress. What am I some kind of masochist?) and shortly after the epidural kicked in, I was almost at 10cm and we were on the fast track to meet Gracie.

The next few hours were busy for me (Eric fell asleep a few times. I was pissed and amused and pissed again.) while I worked hard to meet my girl…3 hours of pushing.  3 hours.  And you know what?  I loved every second of it.  No seriously. I really think giving birth is fun.  I loved the adrenaline, the pure physicality of it, how high the stakes are.  It was invigorating and amazing and I am so glad I got to experience it. After 24 hours of labor, 3 hours of pushing, at 8:38 am Grace Noelle came into the world with a cry that dissolved me into a fountain of tears—relief, joy, anticipation--every feeling I’ve ever felt, I wept it that morning.  The nurses placed her on my chest and I said, “she looks like Nana!” and I cried again, and looked at Eric and he was crying and the nurses were smiling and I felt like I had just done the most important job my body could ever do.  I remember nursing Grace right away and thinking I was so glad to hold her but maybe could I just have a minute without someone touching me/monitoring me/sticking needles in me so I could catch my breath? And God laughed and was like, not for the next year or so, sweetie. 

I remember every time the nurse brought her to me at night she was wide-awake and so serene and I called her bright eyes. I swear I saw something divine when I looked into those newborn eyes, and I was transformed.

 

And now, a year later, I’m so happy to celebrate this charming, adorable, hilarious little girl who has taught me what life is really all about. I want to sear everything about her into my brain, but tonight, I really want to make sure I remember how it all started.

Not only was a baby born on November 3, 2013. So was a mother.