At 39 weeks preggo, on a Monday evening in September, at approximately 10:30 pm – and right in the middle of our movie “Win Win” – the tank of water broke. Little Fishy was on her Way. Although already packed, Daddy Art immediately and adoringly and a little frantically packs another bag of last minute needs, like chocolate, the laptop, cell phone chargers, etc. Hey, it could be a really long labor, and “we were in the middle of our movie!”
We knew the baby was headed in the wrong direction for a couple of weeks, and had tried almost everything we heard of to turn her around: Yoga, music buds, chiropractic, moxibustion, bribery, muscle-relaxer acupressure, shame and guilt, even performing some obscure flashlight trick… All to no avail. She was Frank Breech, which frankly means that she was Completely and Honestly Heads-Up – Feet-Up – Booty First.
At the hospital they checked again. And she was still. Just. Like. That.
Argh.
But if you’ve seen the movie “Win Win” then you’re familiar with the mantra “Whatever the f*$% it takes.” Right?!?!
They schedule the C-Section for, Oh, Right Now’s Good for Us.
At 1 am, Elizabeth my 16-year old joins the party! She suits up, and with strength and clarity that would make her ancestors proud, joins me in the OR to be the one and only front row witness to the birth of her sister, Lua Love Kellgren, at 3:17 am.
We were discharged 4 days later, and were really happy to be home. We still are, really happy to be home. Lua is healthy, Elizabeth caught up on her missed school work and Art is one of the most amazing men on the face of the planet: Making lunch and dinner (and snacks) and cleaning up and burping baby and changing diapers and making me nap all while still doing his own job… And he does it with this blissed-out smile on his face.
Ahhhhh…
With every breath I am filled with Gratitude and – dare I say it – Love. Thank you all for being a such a significant part of my happiness. Our happiness.