I was preparing to push the 'lil guy out my vag. I was still under the illusion that after I got an epidural, labor wouldn’t suck. It does.
And FYI, it still hurts. Even with an epidural. (They lie, they lie!)
I was lying in the hospital bed, feeling pukey and weird – but elated – and had a towel stuffed down there to catch my leaky water. I was excited.
And then once I was fully dilated, I was no longer excited. I was in pain, and I was pissed.
I also might have been hallucinating and insisted I had "pulsating balls." (True story.)
And, after hours of pushing, having my epidural taken away…after hours of crying and being in agony…
out came my son.
He didn’t cry when he was born. The doctors from the NICU were in my room, prepared for a sick child, and they were concerned. But my doctor said, quite cheerfully, “Nah, don’t worry. He’s a Celexa baby. Celexa babies are always relaxed when they come out!” And I looked at him, I looked him in his beautiful blue eyes, and knew that life was Good, it had meaning.
August 4, 2006 was a good day. The best they come, in fact.
Happy birthday, buddy. Let’s celebrate by laughing and blowing bubbles and going on a bike ride and eating cake and giving Eskimo kisses and opening that tractor you’ve been begging for.
I can’t wait.