October 4th was my due date and I was SO ready.
I was five months pregnant when I finished my first year teaching high school English.
I had the whole summer to myself…and I have no idea what I did everyday. I know there was a lot of Oprah and Dr. Phil watching (or sleeping through), but other than that my time as a first time preggo is a blur. I mean I didn’t blog. I think I tried my hand at scrapbooking…I certainly didn’t clean (not my thing), and we didn’t have any money to spend so I sure wasn’t shopping.
I can tell you one thing though, I did spend a lot of time thinking and dreaming about the baby inside me.
I pictured a tiny little dark haired philippino girl with pig tails. She would come downstairs in her fleece zip up pajamas and rub her eyes while asking for a drink and then skitter back off to bed. She would coo and giggle at me. She would be perfect.
Pat and I debated on a name. We always thought our first born daughter would be named Logan.
But when I got pregnant the name didn’t feel right. We went through so many name options, I loved Bailed and Taylor and Kayell…Pat said they sounded too white. He liked Gabrielle and I hated the sound of it combined with out last name.
pat: Too close to my sister’s name.
pat: know someone with that name.
pat: Too common.
me: What about Maile?
And it stuck. We loved it.
My pregnancy was uneventful and easy. Aside from a Scrabble incident and some occasional snippy remarks I’d say I was quite lovely to live with. Pat has remarked on more than one occassion that I’m the nicest when I’m pregnant…which is super nice…when I’m pregnant. Unfortunately I do spend most of my days NOT pregnant and therefore feel slightly jabbed with that compliment.
So October 4th came and I was all “this is it! today’s the day! I can have a baby at ANY moment!!”
And then October 5th came and I was all “omg I’m one day late!! what was that? A contraction? I don’t think so…but STILL! ANY minute!!”
And then Octber 6th came and I was all “I can’t WAIT for this baby to come! I just want to hold her and see her! This is killing me!!”
And then October 7th came and my sister and brother were having a birthday party and I started crying and I was all “How nice for YOU ALL to have BIRTHDAYS! I’m so freaking HAPPY FOR YOU!!!”
And then October 8th came and I was all “Seriously. This baby is never going to come out.”
And then October 9th came and if you’re sick of reading this repetitive recount of my overdue days just IMAGINE how I felt!!
And then October 10th came and I was all “Whatever. It’s fine, she’s going to come out one way or another, it’s all fine. She’s simply not ready. I can be patient.”
And then October 11th came and I was all, “Seriously come OUT!”
And then October 12th came and I was all, “STOP CALLING ME, I’ll let you know when I go into labor!!”
And then October 13th came and the doctor was all, “yeaaah we should schedule you to get induced”
And then October 14th came and I was all, “oh!” Slight pains throughout the day. By midnight I knew it was labor. I composed myself and called the hospital, but they thought I sounded too composed and told me to wait another hour.
I don’t know how many times I threw up, but it was a fair amount. I never went to a birthing class because I watched The Baby Story everyday and I thought it looked easy enough. So I tensed up with each contraction instead and tried to physically stop them. Not exactly textbook.
I made Pat call the hospital again and cried about how they weren’t taking me seriously. Even Pat pulled out the “how to tell when your in labor” chapter of my book and was all, “are you sure?”
YES I’M SURE!!!!
When we got to the hospital I was dilated to a three.
THAT’S IT!?!!? A THREE!?!?! Check again.
I was certain I was not only dilated to a ten, but that the baby had to have been half way outside my body. I couldn’t believe it was going to get worse. She made us walk. I threw up some more. I inched my way down the hallway and glared at the preggo walking around in a plush robe and slippers with headphones on.
Finally my water broke. At last I had validation that indeed I was having a baby and the nurse could not send us home as she had intended. For the record I had no intention of going back home. I’f have planted myself directly in front of the nurses desk if that’s what it came to. I KNEW it was go time.
The epidural was pure heaven. My uterus contracted to it’s hearts content…if it had a heart. Just as I snuggled in for nap the nurse was all “whelp it’s time to push” and I was all “I’m just gonna sunggle in for a quick nap if you don’t mind” and she was all “no huh uh, you’re actually going to start pushing now” and I was all “FINE.”
And then she was born.
And I was in love.
A joy unmatched…at that time.
And then I blinked.
And now she’s six.
And I don’t want to blink again.