For this edition of “Look Back and Laugh’ I am going to retell the birth story, but without all of the drama or mushy reflections. Labor is one of those things that is definitely not funny at the time, or for a long time, but I am to the place now where I truly can “look back and laugh”
I labored all through Labor Day, as fate would have it. That morning we were placing our bets on what size he would be. My dad put his bid in “8 lb 9 oz” We all thought he was crazy for guessing so high. I never got very big. I guess I was one of those women that most people are annoyed by because they don’t look pregnant from behind. I can’t take credit for my maternal physique, but hey I am not going to complain either. I was about to experience plenty that would be less than flattering in the delivery room. In the end my dad’s guess was just 2 ounces low and his bet won.
Being my first pregnancy and my due date nearly a week away I thought I had plenty of time before this baby was coming. Maybe that is why I was in denial for so long. One contraction after the other, the betting went from what size the baby would be to when I was actually going to give birth. Despite what this story may depict I do not come from a family of gamblers although, for the record my niece won that one.
Eventually I did find myself at the birth center. After being examined, the midwife looked at me wide eyed and with a sense of urgency she said “honey you are in labor!” This was the moment I have dreamt of for so long. I was so excited, I was so emotional, I was so…nauseous. For the next hour I would be making some hefty deposits in trash cans throughout the birth center. As we make our way upstairs, my husband thoughtfully assisted me and whispered sweet words of encouragement every step of the way. I turned to him and even in my weakness I was able to mutter, “sweet heart… the smell of your gum is unbearable can you PLEASE do something about it!”
As the labor progressed and the vomiting subsided I was doing pretty good. Swaying gracefully to the soft melodic tunes I had chosen specifically for this moment. Even when I was in the full-blown position for parturition I was feeling pretty calm. Then it started getting a little bit intense. I was reminded of the childbirth classes where they tell you not to scream, but instead do low toned moaning. I tried this, but somehow it turned into a growl. So there I am like a scene from the exorcist, literally feeling incapable of controlling any of my convulsions or tiger noises. This is not what I had in mind to go with my southing background music!
When the time finally came and I saw my son for the first time he looked absolutely perfect, but even that was a little concerning to me. You see, I had read all of the books, and they tell you not to get preconceived ideas about having a beautiful newborn after delivery because they could have a misshapen head, bruises from birth, and be covered with a cottage cheese like substance. So in my mind, just to prepare myself, I envisioned the most hideous alien looking infant you could ever imagine. So when he didn’t look that way I thought “oh no, I am one of those crazy parents that sees an adorable baby when they are really disfigured.”
The next day we are on the way home with a baby that looked precious to me regardless of what the truth was (looking back on it now I know that I wasn’t crazy after all). We are exhausted and hungry so my husband was going to order a pizza, but he had to call 411 for the number.
“I’d like one large supreme for pick up please” he said
“I’m sorry sir, this number is 411” said the operator
We all got a good laugh out of it and eventually we even got a pizza.
THE END.
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