The wee one took pity on me and decided enough was enough. No more torture for the mama. Instead, WE HAVE A BABY.
She (yes SHE) was born last week. It's a girl--a gorgeous chubby little girl with wisps of hair and bright blue eyes.
She was born at home. No cutting me open this time. My body did it on its own. I pushed her out myself (with the midwife's help) and then reached down and grabbed her to pull her up to my chest. That was something I desperately wanted--to have my baby on my chest. Every other time, my babies were whisked away from me either in a rush to the NICU or just to another room so I could be put back together. I have never even held my children in their first hours. In that time, I was always lying flat on a table while doctors sewed or stapled me back together. This time, I wanted to know what it was like to have the baby immediately come from inside me and rest on my chest from the outside. I got just that and it was amazing.
Dh cut the cord. That's something he has never done before and something I always hoped he would. This time, he did.
There were many recitations of the Shehecheyanu. I said it over and over again. I can't tell you how many times I said, "Oh thank G-d." As has been the case with all my children, the first words I spoke to my daughter were the first few verses of the Sh'ma.
When it was over, dh and I went to bed--OUR bed together, the same bed where our youngest was born. I was on my side, he on his, the baby sleeping between us and we held hands and stared at her completely fixated and in love (with her, with each other, with life).
Our baby is here. She is healthy. She had the best possible entrance into the world. She helped fullfill so many dreams and hopes.
In all my life, I have never felt so powerful. I have never felt so in awe. I have never felt so thankful. I have never felt so close to G-d.