It was a hot musty Sunday morning in August when I got out of bed and felt a sudden tightening of my enormous belly. At the time I was nine months pregnant and about a week away from my due date. That morning I was preparing to do some last minute shopping, because I had just begun maternity leave and really wanted to enjoy the last few quiet days at home before the arrival of my little bundle. Ha! the joke was on me because my daughter had plans of her own.
Sure enough, that tightening (or better known as contractions) was just the beginning of labor and a memory I will never forget and always cherish. As the day progressed and the sun warmed up the day, my contractions began a regular rhythm of every 8-10 minutes apart. My fiance and my immediate family were by my side the entire day, waiting on me hand and foot. Of course, I remember being not so kind, as I was uncomfortable and very nervous about the events unfolding. My mom was a nervous wreck and everyone was a ball of excitement and energy. We truly couldn't wait for the arrival of the first grand baby for both sides of the family.
As hot as it was and as uncomfortable I was feeling, my doctor advised me to walk and call him back as soon as I started to have contractions five minutes apart or should my water break. So, the walking began...and continued...and continued. I don't think I had ever walked so much in one day. However, by 8 p.m. that evening labor had started to pick up. I started to feel the contractions with great intensity and my anxiety level was through the rough. I had no idea what to expect. Although I had read every book under the sun, and had taken Lamaze. I was more fearful of what I had missed or worse the unexpected. Typical me....
By 9 p.m. I was already admitted into the hospital and already 3 centimeters dilated. This baby was coming and I was surely feeling it. My fiance at the time was an amazing support system and was by my side the whole time. I remember thinking while I laid on the bed strapped to all types of contraptions of how cold and blah the room looked. Ideas to spruce up the place ran rampant in my head. It was probably my way of coping looking back now. Of course all the medical tools and beeping sounds would bring me back to reality and remind me why I was truly there. Eventually, labor picked up and so did my moans and groans...this continued until about 7 the next morning when hard labor kicked in. I mean hard labor!! At this point my doctor broke my water and the rest of what I remember was feeling desperate to push and a strong desire to stop the pain!! I never screamed or cried because what kept me focused were thoughts of my paternal grandmother birthing her 12 children at home with no medication. Low and behold my daughter was welcomed into this world after many hours of laboring and medication free at 10:28 a.m. weighing in at 6 lbs. 11oz and 18 inches long on Monday, August 18, 1997. She was and still is the best gift I ever worked so hard for!!
From that day forward life had completely changed and would never be the same. I am still thankful for all the support I had received then because I don't think that I could have had a successful labor had I done it alone. My fears would have taken over and could have caused a great disaster. My family kept me focused and calm reminding me that women do this everyday and that no matter what they were all going to be there to help. This is why I truly live by the African proverb of it takes a village to raise a child. I drew my strength and courage from those that surrounded me with such and is why today I know I am the best mom I can be. With their support, love and guidance I was able to lovingly bond with my child and welcome motherhood.
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