The Story

I read plenty... talked to as many mothers as I could talk to... we even went to class. But I don't think there's a book or a wives tale out there that could ever prepare anyone to the feeling of new motherhood...

I didn't go to work that Wednesday because I was feeling a bit under the weather. Luckily, I had been training my backup as if "preparing" to leave work everyday assuming I wasn't going to be back the next day. Every day that week, Mike had been loading (and unloading) his car with all our bags and the car seat... "just in case". But Wednesday came and went... and still no baby Ethan.

Thursday morning, I felt as shitty as the day before, if not shittier... and I decided I couldn't drive to work in that condition. My contractions were still inconsistent, but they had definitely gotten significantly more distinct compared to the night before. I think Mike could tell by my facial expressions that I was in pain (though sporadically), as he dressed up for work like usual that morning but obviously not wanting to leave me behind. He tried to convince me to go to the hospital to get "checked out", but I just kept brushing it off. By that point, I was very firm in that I wouldn't go back to the hospital again (after our 2 previous and grueling false alarms) UNLESS I knew DEFINITELY that "it was time". And that morning, despite Mike's huffin and puffin, I was thoroughly convinced that it wasn't. Even after I teased him about using my labor as an excuse out of work that day, he stayed home with me anyway.

That same afternoon, after having barraged with concerned family members PLUS Mike.. I gave in and got in the car and we were on our way to triage. Mike and I hung out, trying to hold some hopeful conversations while the contractions beat out their rhythm on the paper strips. I could feel them rising, and falling, intense but the pain was mostly manageable, as I listened to Ethan's heart buhbeat-buhbeat-buhbeat-buhbeat-buhbeat-buhbeat. After 2 hours of "monitoring", they came in and told me I was only 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced (only 1 cm dilated more than 1 week ago at my doctor's appointment).

I was visibly disappointed, as if I was certain all along that they weren't going to keep me. I felt like I was never going to deliver. It wasn't a lot of progress to say the least (despite our courageous efforts to induce it the natural way), and wasn't a clear symptom of the onset of labor.. and it my mind, I already started making plans of where to go that night for dinner (I was STARVING!). But because of the consistent contractions, they asked for me to stay a little bit longer to see if I progress any more.. and sure enough! Next thing I knew, I was being wheeled to the labor and delivery room.

Then we knew..... it was time to make the phone calls.....

It was quick. I can't say it was painless. Though slightly drugged and numb from the waist down from the epidural, the pressure was irrefutable... and I felt him making his way down as if he knew exactly what he was supposed to do. I remember my nurse, Sue, tried to tell me to get as much rest as possible because I would need it when the time came. My only comfort was the sight of Mike nervously pacing back and forth (to me, it meant that he was getting as excited as I was) and the ice chips that I tried to chew on since they couldn't feed me anything else.

As soon as I saw my legs thrown up on the stirups and they told me I was ready to push... I knew what I had to do. I remember holding Mike's hand, consciously trying not to squeeze too hard while desperately trying to concentrate on the push as he repeatedly counted from 1 to 10. Inbetween contractions, these strangers in different-colored scrubs showered me with compliments of how "good" of a pusher I was. And in the midst of it all, I remember Mike kissing my forehead, consoling me that it's almost over, and reminding me how beautiful the end result would be... if I just hung on a little longer, and pushed just a little harder.

And all of a sudden, I heard him cry. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. And when they finally put him on my belly, still attached and covered in mucus, there was not a tear in my eye like I thought I would have. Yet there was an overwhelming sensation of joy like I could never explain.. and I even felt a little sad when they took him away shortly to clean him up.

It was love at first sight. I knew I loved him while he was still in me but it was different once I could hold him and shower him with kisses. I felt empowered.... because I knew that all the pain and discomfort I endured for 9 months were merely a preface to this new life I cradled so cautiously in my arms. I felt blessed.... because I had been given the gift of family -- a loving husband and a son to love. And at the same time, I felt a little scared... because I realized that from that point on, every decision I make will mold him to the person that he will be for the rest of his life.