For the first time, I had my birth experience documented by my dear friend and family photographer, Marie. What a precious gift that was and still is. I will never forget every single moment of June 27th, 2011...
I woke up running, attacking my to-do list for my oldest daughter's upcoming birthday party. My parents were visiting us, anticipating the arrival of their 6th grandchild and helping keep my girls busy. They took them out that day for the fun things grandparents do, like having hot dogs at Costco. Meanwhile, I was picking up last minute party supplies and Steve was out running his errands (on his honey-do list). It was around 11am when I realized that my baby wasn't moving all morning. No kicks. And with my medical background, I had a very (VERY) bad feeling about it.
I called my doctor's office and since they were just about to close for lunch, they instructed me to go directly to the hospital. I called my husband to tell him to meet me at home, right away. He stayed relatively calm, but inside my heart, I was terrified. I don't know how I got my car home. It seemed like every part of my brain was panicking. I called my parents to tell them I was going to the hospital. I dared not tell them much more. I knew my girls were well taken care of.
We got to the hospital and I told the nurses what had happened all morning. As soon as I climbed into the hospital bed and the nurse set up the monitors, I felt a slight kick. It was so slight that I was unsure it was real. The monitors, the doppler ultrasound, and the nurse reassured me that everything was fine. But everything was not fine... KABAM! I was hit hard with a 5 minute duration intensely painful contraction. I remember looking at the nurse and my husband wondering how I would be able to breathe for those eternal 5 excruciating minutes. And they stood there in amazing shock, watching the monitor document the duration of my contraction.
Now my nurse was too hesitant to send me home. She instructed me to "walk" for an hour around the Labor & Delivery floor. I remember thinking to myself "how is walking going to quicken my dilation?" Oh, it did! One hour later I was getting hooked up and medicated for another delivery. Updates were sent to my parents and girls, and to my friend Marie, who joined us in my hospital room with her camera, humor, and compassion.
As the hours passed by, the three of us started to scratch names off the potential baby-girl and baby-boy names lists. I remember the top three boy names... Anil, Evan, Axel. The top girl name was Claire.
It really was torture for me... I hate waiting until the last minute. And picking your child's name without knowing if he would be a he, or she a she, is much too last minute for my comfort.
And then, again, KABAM! At 9:45pm I delivered a healthy child and my husband looked at me and said, "Guess what! It's a boy!"
My response was, "What? Are you sure?" And then I cried from some place so deep within me that I could not will myself to open my eyes to see what this boy of mine looked like. It felt like my tears were made of heavy boulders, and as each one fell off my face I felt lighter and lighter. The hopefulness inside of me was released. Breathing became easier in a strange way. My life turned around. My son, my son was in my arms!
I challenged myself to photograph him every week, for 52 weeks, and yesterday I completed my challenge with a special cake smash session for him. My typically messy boy, who cannot get enough of sweets, especially chocolate, was extremely hands-off with his cake. Most of the "mess" was staged and encouraged by Steve.
Now with a year of weekly pictures of Evan to enjoy, I am so grateful that I stuck to it. I can't wait to share these with him someday. Until then, I just tell him the story of his birth day and every time I say the word "KABAM" he releases a laugh so deep within him that I can't help but thank God for this boy of mine.
Happy 1st Birthday, sweet sweet Evan!
