On April 30th of last year, I woke up at 3:20a.m. with a nagging urge to pace. Something didn’t feel right. I hopped out of bed and walked aimlessly around and around our bedroom. The farmer woke up and this is what he said:
Farmer: “Are you alright?”
Me: “I don’t know…I don’t know…I don’t know…I don’t know…” (Apparently, I didn’t know)
I got back into bed, but my back hurt so bad I couldn’t stay there. So, back to pacing again it was. The logical thing to do.
Farmer: “Honey, what’s wrong? Do you think it’s time? Are you having contractions?”
Me: “I don’t know what these are. All I know is that my back really hurts.”
See, when you’ve never had a baby before, you have no idea what to expect and no matter how many different women tell you what labor is like, it’s never how you feel or experience it. And the whole front of me felt fine. The back, however, did not! So, obviously, I wasn’t in labor because my stomach didn’t hurt. (My body had other plans).
Farmer: “Do we need to go to the hospital?”
Me: “No, I’ll just see if it goes away.” (I find that quite funny now, for some reason).
Two and a half hours later, I’m at the hospital. And Peanut took her sweet, merry time because it was at exactly 8:39 p.m. that I finally gave birth to her. I was one of those stubborn people who didn’t want an epidural. Seven hours in , I was getting the epidural. Five minutes after that beautiful invention, I would have been ready to power shop had I been able to feel my legs. Mom gave me a makeover and I was just giddy to invite everyone into my room for a party. Minutes before, I had been telling the farmer to “Stop laughing and don’t talk!!” (He and my mom were so excited. Who could blame them? Meanwhile, my contractions are trying to reach the height of Mount Everest on the computer screen).
I remember holding Peanut in my arms after we all finally got in our own room and thinking to myself that the farmer and I made the most beautiful babies in the world. I actually looked up at him and said, “I think I could have about 5 more of these.” (I was heavily, heavily medicated and out of my ever-loving mind). The reality of motherhood had not set in yet.
Now, she’s a year old and boy, has it been a crazy ride! From the lows of a little bit of time spent in post-partum depression to the highs of every milestone that Taegan reached so early, it’s been a beautiful time in my life. Not to mention that when you already have a happy marriage, how much more a child can solidify the bond between husband and wife. I don’t get to sit right in the crook of the farmer’s arm in church anymore (a little girl likes to sit there), but I get this warm, cozy feeling when he puts his arm on top of the pew and gives my shoulder a squeeze or plays with my hair. However, cliched it sounds, a feeling of completeness. And that my life, personally, has come full-circle to what it ideally should have been. And what it should be for any child.
Happy Birthday, Peanut! Can’t wait to celebrate many more!!
*Pictures in this post taken by Mary Veatch*