She is here.
I don’t think I’ve ever been more miserable than I have been in the last couple weeks. I swear I had Ebola twice. Then this Friday I was ill again with nausea, diarrhea, chills, hot sweats, no appetite, as well as no contractions. After 24 hours I was feeling entirely drained, for the third time. So I asked my friends and pastor to pray for me, that I would have the strength for labor and that I could have a good attitude. Then God took care of business.
I began to have random contractions Saturday evening. Around every half hour or so. Then all of a sudden they started to fall into place enough for me to time them. The first one was 8 minutes. The next one was 6. Then 5. I decided to check in with the midwife and let her know I might be coming to see her that night and ready myself for the long haul. But the next contraction was 4 minutes. Like, what they hey? If that’s how it was going to go I decided to get in the tub. Before I did, I called the midwife again to let her know that this was weird. She said, “You’ve only been laboring for 20 minutes, try for another 30.” So I went ahead and got in the bath. Where I had 5 contractions and then I got the heck out, and hobbled dripping wet to the truck. “Boy! Let’s go. Now.” I was crawling the walls of his pickup the 15 minutes to the birth center. I barely made it in the door where I dropped to the floor and started making the most undignified noises. It only got worse from there. The 20 minute affair gracefully concluded with explosive, volatile splatter that would be well put to use as a sound effect for video games where they blow up zombies.
And voila, baby. Clocked at under an hour. The midwives said, “You make it look so easy.” Did they somehow miss me yelling like I was going to die and then exploding like a fat tick? Babies are not easy, but I’ll happily settle for fast. Thank you Jesus.
There is nothing quite like being not pregnant with a beautiful, perfectly healthy little girl to show for it.