c-section, as were Jack and Ty. But she was my last. And I knew it. And as they took her out, this song came on in the O.R. I sang under my breath, and Bruce held my hand, and I started to cry. And cry. And I couldn't stop. Bruce stroked my forehead and said oh chica cause he knew. My midwife, whom I love, looked at me and smiled. After 5 pregnancies and 3 babies, she was used to my water works. She looked into my eyes and I looked into hers, and then she knew why I was sobbing. She patted my shoulder as I lay on the table and couldn't look at me again. She loved helping us have babies. I loved having babies. Every minute of it. I loved the nausea and stuffy nose and bleeding gums. I loved peeing 16 times a night. I loved the inevitable sex dreams during the 5th month. I loved ultrasounds and glucose tolerance tests. I even loved having my membranes stripped and drinking castor oil to induce labor neither worked. I loved being in the hospital. I loved being awake all night holding my newborn and feeling so energized I thought I'd never sleep again that didn't last long. I loved it all. For the seven years I was pregnant and breastfeeding, I was HAPPY. No little blue pill necessary.
She knew I sobbed because I knew Mia was my last. And she knew it too. I was mourning.
We climbed a big fucking mountain this year. I never entertained the thought of not reaching the top cause sitting down and dying of frostbite was not an option. But my babies... I feared they might not make it. But they did. Their bodies and hearts were so much stronger than I thought. But there was wear and tear, and my babies are tired. can the child who IS my heart rise above? My babies are amazing and strong and resilient. But I'm their mama, and as you mamas know, we would do ANYTHING to carry our babies safe and sound to the top of the mountain and not let them get buried in the landslide.
Today, as I worry about my babies making it through, I think of all the mamas whose babies are making it through. This mama, and this mama, and this mama and this one. And so many others. And of course, J.
Thank you, you strong mamas who write about your fears and your babies and their triumphs.
You've helped me climb to the top.