What Miracles Look Like

I was 20 when I had my daughter Leah. I seemed, to me, to be perfectly capable of having a baby but I really was far from that word. But at 20 you want to be grown up and what could possibly be more grown up then having a baby? I was a single parent, did not have much support from family, and had never had an example of what being a good mother looked like. I remember in my last month of pregnancy feeling so scared and wondering how in the world I could possibly do this. I would sit on the floor in a house I was renting in Anacortes, WA and cry my eyes out. I attended some birth classes, had a friend that was my birth coach, and tried to just have some faith that it would all be ok. I think I took pretty good care of myself, not really knowing much about being pregnant. I did smoke! I think a lot of pregnant women smoked back then. I remember the doctor saying it was fine and would keep the baby from being too big!! WHAT? Now when I think about that I cringe. But you can only do better when you know better. I know better now but there is a box we all carry that is filled with the weight of all the things we did wrong in our of ignorance and that box rarely contains self forgiveness.

I rolled past my due date as many first time mothers do. Then came all the suggestions on how to get labor going. The one that worked was chugging a bottle of castor oil. I spent the night sitting on the toilet (no pre-birth enema needed!) and by the morning I knew that the pain in my lower belly was no longer from the castor oil. The contractions became more regular throughout the day and I used the breathing methods taught to me in my birth classes. This was going to be a breeze! No drugs for me, no way, this was going to be a natural birth!

By the time that I was admitted to the hospital in Anacortes I was still chugging along with my breathing methods and feeling pretty confident. But as the hours ticked by the real work of labor began. What an incredible thing this is to try to push a big human being out of your body. But my body wasn’t up for the task and complications set in. First my labor slowed again and they had me get up and walk around. That didn’t help. Then her heart rate started to change so they decided I needed to be in a bigger hospital and shipped me via ambulance to United General in Sedro-Woolley , west of Anacortes. They felt this hospital would be better equipped to handle any further issues and they hoped that the ambulance ride would get things going again.

You lose track of time when you are in hard labor. And the little dreams you have between contractions are bizarre and yet strangely real. I remember the smell of people’s breath bothering me terribly and telling people to get out of my face when talking to me. I remember trying to get through each contraction, still not asking for medications, still wanting to have a ‘natural’ birth. When the urge to push comes along it is the most overpowering feeling. And it is also a huge relief because you are headed to the finish line. You are finally able to go with a contraction versus go through a contraction. I pushed and pushed and pushed until I was exhausted and again her heart rate plummeted. With each contraction it would drop so low and then slowly come back. I began to see the top of her head with each push. And then things totally tanked. She was stuck. They decide to do an emergency c-section. I remember them rushing me down the hall and saying, ‘DON’T PUSH” but that urge is so strong and the compulsion to bear down is primal.
In moments they had given me a spinal block, cut my abdomen open and pried a baby girl out of my body. Her head was pushed down into the birth canal and they had to give her a few good tugs to pull her back out, to pull her in the opposite direction of where she was headed. All I remember is the relief of hearing her cry.

It takes so many miracles to get born. And it actually takes a billion more just to get conceived and carried to term. It takes one sperm out of a million to reach one egg out of thousands and if it doesn’t happen at that precise moment in time YOU are not YOU,  YOU are some other YOU. The universe has been here for billions of years, there is an eternity before you and there is one behind as well. And miracle of miracles, everything had to roll out just right to bring each one of us here. We are the makings of so many uncountable, incalculable miracles. And most of the time we don’t even know it. We just take it for granted.

I remember holding her later that day, just her and me in a big empty birthing room. I was all blubbery and hormonal, buzzing on whatever meds they gave me but mostly just madly in love. Crazy, mad love for this little baby that was a girl, my girl. I swore to always love her and to tell her how beautiful and amazing she is. I swore she wouldn’t ever have to feel what I felt as an abandoned child. I swore to be good to her and kind.
I haven’t always kept those promises.

Except the one, the one to always love her.

Leah just turned 40. We survived the birth and all the years that followed. It wasn’t always easy or nice or lovely or peaceful or stable or any other words you might want to attach to raising a child. It was difficult. I was growing up just like she was growing up and I made big mistakes. But I also made some good choices and it is reflected in her now. She is an incredible mom, a strong woman, a sweet, kindhearted person, headstrong and true.

Happy Birthday baby girl. Your birthday was my ‘birth day’ – we made it through that day together. And we made it through many more together as well. You are my miracle – Miracles look like you . . .