You can never plan for a miracle

It was nearly Christmas, almost nineteen years ago, that I was pregnant with my first little miracle.  I was reminded of this not long ago, as friends of mine recently gave birth to their own bundle of joy.  Well, to be specific, one of my friends did the birthing and the other one had the lesser role of "coach". Not to say that his role was not significant, but let's face it, it's not as if reminding someone to breathe and running for ice chips is the same as pushing a baby out of your... well, you know. 

My husband and I were pretty stupid about babies and giving birth.  That's kind of the reason I called her my first a miracle, given the fact that we put about as much thought into the entire process as we did deciding on what movie to go to.  Probably less actually. 

These days people are so focused and organized they have actual birth plans.  I had always thought that plan was a forgone conclusion after conception. I am pregnant, so I plan on giving birth. No need to get a pen and paper for that little piece of obvious. These days, birth plans can be small novels, and often involve more contingencies than FEMA.  

Did you know that someone actually wrote something called 12 steps to easy labour? The first one should have been adoption, but surprisingly, that wasn't even on the list.  Giving birth is ridiculously hard and incredibly painful. There is nothing easy about it and I am convinced that whoever wrote that bit of crazy is a misogynistic Nazi.

My first baby was seventeen days over-due.  I was induced 7 different times to try and coax her from my fat, bloated belly to no avail. Finally, they decided to introduce me to a special kind of hell called pitocin, which was supposed to encourage the birthing process.  It didn't. It did, however, encourage me to discuss sterilization in one of my more lucid moments between excruciating contractions. The nurses kindly supplied me with laughing gas. I did not laugh.  

I have yet to give my husband credit for his part in the birthing experience.  I feel remiss in that, so I will say that he did, at one point during a very painful contraction, pat me on the arm and tell me to shush because I was making too much noise.  If you didn't believe in miracles, here's one for you ... he managed to escape that comment with all of his appendages intact.  

It would seem that he could have used a birthing plan.  I made him one for our subsequent children's births. It's called  'What Not to Say to Your Wife While She is in Labour.' For a copy, please send requests via email.

Finally, after 13 hours of hard (not that easy stuff) labour, the doctor stepped in, had a wee look, and decided that I was incapable of giving birth naturally. I could have told him that in my first trimester, about five minutes after I watched a natural birthing video.  

It was then decided that they would carve me up like a Christmas goose and do a scoop and run.  I may or may not be correctly remembering the exact language.  You see, it was being described post epidural and at that point, they could have been planning to sell my body parts on the black market and I would have gladly signed the paperwork.  I felt that good.

Can I just say, epidurals are God’s gift to pregnancy.  I, for one, am very thankful and have referenced it on more than one occasion at a thanksgiving meal.  An attitude of gratitude is the key to all life's successes, big or small.  

So after all the egregious things that I had suffered through, at exactly 10:33 pm one week prior to Christmas, I delivered the most perfect baby that had ever been created by my husband and I up until that point. My mother-in-law had requested that I wait an additional 1 hour and 27 minutes so she and my daughter could share the same birthday.  She was escorted from the room before any harm could come to her. 

Anyway, I thought I would share my birthing story at this time of year when we celebrate the most blessed birth of all.  Oddly enough, those two didn't seem to have much of a birth plan either and their child turned out kind of amazing. I'm talking about Mary and Joseph, not my friends Keilen and Ryan.  Although I'm sure their little one will turn out quite super too. 

This article is written by or on behalf of an outsourced columnist and does not necessarily reflect the views of Castanet.