I awoke at 6:00 a.m. and felt the urge to use the restroom as I grunted my way to a sitting position, scooted to the edge and groaned and pushed my way to a stand. These once easily maneuvered movements demanding much more from me than they once had and certainly taking twice as long. I thought to myself that I should watch out what I wish for. We had tried for three long, tearful years to have a child and when I finally gave up on that dream I became pregnant.
It had been an utterly blissful first trimester and a relatively easy second one. The third one had just been cumbersome. My thin torso had become an ever-enlarging basketball under my clothing but still my arms and legs remained thin. I had no morning sickness whatsoever, a blessing I didn’t appreciate until after I became pregnant with my second child.
As I shuffled back to bed I realized I was having some pretty powerful cramps that had nothing to do with my visit to the bathroom. I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and as I clutched my thrashing middle I woke my husband with the words, “Honey, I think I’m in labor.” He bolted out of bed and immediately asked if I was ready to go!
“Uh, not quite, I’m not dressed; I could use some coffee; and the thing that got me in this condition is hanging out,” I mumbled.
He giggled and then eagerly asked, “When was the last contraction?”
“I’m not even sure it IS a contraction, could be gas,” I retorted.
We waited until the next “cramp” and then simply started monitoring the timing like they taught us in Lamaze class. As expected, the pains became more frequent and around 8:00 a.m. we decided it was time to head for the hospital. We jumped into the pickup, or rather HE jumped into the pickup and then made winch-screeching noises as he grabbed my arm and hoisted me into the truck. We made it to the hospital in record time. After checking in and settling into the “labor room” my doctor asked if I was going to get this over before the Super Bowl began and I assured him I had every intention of it! He mumbled something about first time moms as he left the room. Boy, did I prove him wrong!
I had no anesthesia and I have to tell you, I’ve had the flu worse than bearing a child, seriously. I clearly remember her first cry before the rest of her body was delivered. They suctioned out her nostrils as she was jutting out of me, screaming, filling her new lungs with precious, life-giving air while the rest of her was still inside my womb.
At 11:25 a.m. I pushed one last time and she was born in all her perfection. Weighing in at 8 lbs. 2 ½ ozs., my own personal angel, Angela Michelle, made her entrance into our fortunate world.
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