The Tale of a New She
THE BERRY'S ROOTS IN HISTORY
Baby the First:
The midwife arrived just barely in time to catch Millie, rushing back to the hospital an hour after she'd gone home because an unmentionable body part showed I wasn't in "real" labor (8 or 9 centimeters shy of success).
Baby the Second:
The nurse entered the room just barely in time to catch Annika; the midwife (different city, different practice, different midwife) had gone home because, again, the unmentionable body part showed I wasn't in "real" labor (8 centimeters shy of success.) They hadn't even admitted me to the hospital because of that, so the nurse rushed me to sign paperwork moments before the Nixie arrived. How's that for silly bureaucracy...
AND SHE WAS
Baby the Third:
John caught Susannah Wren because the midwife (same city, different midwife) and nurse, though both near our room, weren't actually inside since that pesky, unmentionable body part, just 2 minutes before, had told them that, although I was quite obviously in real labor, I wouldn't be ready to have that baby for perhaps one or a few more hours (4 centimeters shy of success). To be fair, the nurse was fetching the baby delivery cart...
John had just enough time to listen to me tell him the baby was coming, see her head appear, run to the door to yell something indecipherable but roughly meaning, "HELP!", and run back to me to guide her onto the bed. Then he cut the cord and stood shell-shocked until the nurse told him to go wash his hands.
Golly, if only people would listen to me instead of my body parts. Minutes before Susannah was born, I told the nurse and midwife that I felt the same way ten minutes before Annie was born. They examined me, listened to my lying, cheating body instead of to me, and the Wren was born mere minutes later. Basically, all of me feels the curse of Eve except one stupid (but, I suppose, important) part. It figures that that's the only part to which people listen.
All said, the labor was quite intense, as it always is, but four times faster than normal. She arrived in three hours, for which we were thankful. I told the midwife that I didn't want to be induced unless it was clear that Berry was endangered, even though she recommended it because the amniotic fluid levels were low, so they didn't give me pitocin. (It would have been unnecessary, anyway, because by the time they would have induced me had I assented, Berry had already been Out and About for over 15 hours.)
After the Berry came out, she became a Bird. John and I had not decided on a name yet, having left the list in the car because we thought we'd be there all day with nothing to do but eat combos, be in pain, and pick out a baby name. Out of the blue, he said, "We could name her Susannah Wren." I pondered it for a second and gave it my liking. Neither Susannah nor Wren were on our list, and neither of us had contemplated either of the names for our baby before then. John said that it just popped into his head, and I'm glad, because I think it suits her more than Mabel Brynn or Mabel Wren, his other top choices.
The next baby may be born at home, Doctor Owen presiding.
THE END.
Baby the First:
The midwife arrived just barely in time to catch Millie, rushing back to the hospital an hour after she'd gone home because an unmentionable body part showed I wasn't in "real" labor (8 or 9 centimeters shy of success).
Baby the Second:
The nurse entered the room just barely in time to catch Annika; the midwife (different city, different practice, different midwife) had gone home because, again, the unmentionable body part showed I wasn't in "real" labor (8 centimeters shy of success.) They hadn't even admitted me to the hospital because of that, so the nurse rushed me to sign paperwork moments before the Nixie arrived. How's that for silly bureaucracy...
AND SHE WAS
Baby the Third:
John caught Susannah Wren because the midwife (same city, different midwife) and nurse, though both near our room, weren't actually inside since that pesky, unmentionable body part, just 2 minutes before, had told them that, although I was quite obviously in real labor, I wouldn't be ready to have that baby for perhaps one or a few more hours (4 centimeters shy of success). To be fair, the nurse was fetching the baby delivery cart...
John had just enough time to listen to me tell him the baby was coming, see her head appear, run to the door to yell something indecipherable but roughly meaning, "HELP!", and run back to me to guide her onto the bed. Then he cut the cord and stood shell-shocked until the nurse told him to go wash his hands.
Golly, if only people would listen to me instead of my body parts. Minutes before Susannah was born, I told the nurse and midwife that I felt the same way ten minutes before Annie was born. They examined me, listened to my lying, cheating body instead of to me, and the Wren was born mere minutes later. Basically, all of me feels the curse of Eve except one stupid (but, I suppose, important) part. It figures that that's the only part to which people listen.
All said, the labor was quite intense, as it always is, but four times faster than normal. She arrived in three hours, for which we were thankful. I told the midwife that I didn't want to be induced unless it was clear that Berry was endangered, even though she recommended it because the amniotic fluid levels were low, so they didn't give me pitocin. (It would have been unnecessary, anyway, because by the time they would have induced me had I assented, Berry had already been Out and About for over 15 hours.)
After the Berry came out, she became a Bird. John and I had not decided on a name yet, having left the list in the car because we thought we'd be there all day with nothing to do but eat combos, be in pain, and pick out a baby name. Out of the blue, he said, "We could name her Susannah Wren." I pondered it for a second and gave it my liking. Neither Susannah nor Wren were on our list, and neither of us had contemplated either of the names for our baby before then. John said that it just popped into his head, and I'm glad, because I think it suits her more than Mabel Brynn or Mabel Wren, his other top choices.
The next baby may be born at home, Doctor Owen presiding.
THE END.
posted by Abigail at 2:30 PM
3 Comments:
So I wonder...Is your newest child a berry, a bird or a turtle?!?!
Thank you for the details. I must say, when I heard John caught the baby I knew you might be more convinced of homebirthing-after all, who needs anyone else when you have John?
;-)
From the sounds of it, these babies hardly need delivering- maybe a homebirth is just the thing for the next time (especially since Susannah only took 3 hours to come into the world) Thanks for sharing your girls' story! :)
Rebecca,
A turtle berry bird, of course! And, yes, home births seem an even more logical step after this delivery.
Elizabeth,
My labor is always crazy, with extremely intense (read: ouch) contractions that hurry things along, and this one even skipped most of the preliminary labor (you know, the parts where you can still walk around a bit and breathe and eat combos) and jumped straight to the important parts. This time I went from 6 centimeters to holding Susannah in under 15 minutes! We were extremely thankful for such a swift delivery, and now I'm afraid I'm spoiled for future labor of a more normal length.
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