I Remember, Happy Birthday

After much waiting, the day has finally arrived. No, not my own birthday, but Kiernan's. Today he is two, TWO! How quickly it has passed. How much things have changed. My recollection of the day 2 years ago follows. No gory details, I promise.

As I awoke this morning I sat in bed having slept in until 8am and reflected. Yes, 8am is sleeping in for me and for Kiernan as well. I thought upon this day two years ago. By that time I had been in labor for 6 hours already. At that hour I was working my way through some contractions as they grew stronger and Beosig was pushing on my back in the area I felt the most pain. He seems to recall the cat watching me and freaking out thinking that Beosig was inflicting pain upon me because I only made the moaning sounds when he put his hands on me (from her perspective that is). For clarity, moaning was my coping method for the pain. It worked wonders.

The rest was really a blur. I remember the ride to the hospital and telling Beosig to take it easy around left hand turns. Something about turning that direction made things hurt a little more. Why right turns weren't an issue I will never know.

I remember part of the ride up the elevator at the hospital to the birthing wing. I remember going into triage and being told I was at 9 1/2 centimeters and then I was magically in a room. I have no recollection of how I got from triage into my room. Was I half naked being pushed across the wing? God I hope not, but at that point and time I didn't care either. Then again I never have been a very modest person.

I remember the water breaking and the nurse asking me if I would like to move to the other side so she could change the sheets. Then I remember clinging for dear life to the side rail on the bed. It felt as if I let go even a small bit I would lose all ground I had gained with my efforts. There was no way in hell I was moving for that nurse. I didn't care about the damn bed at that moment, thank you very much.

I remember the heart monitor freaking out as my heart rate spiked to over 180 BPM. The rush by the doctor to make sure Kiernan was ok - having to go against my wishes and trying a Internal fetal monitor which failed as my heart rate overrode it. Doppler revealed he was fine.

I remember our doula commenting about the ring of fire and the reminder that was what I was feeling from her at just the right moment. The encouragement to push through the pain. And I did, with a vengeance. I remember commenting how good it felt once Kiernan was out. Like a breath of fresh air - literally since my lungs could now expand completely again. What a stupid thing to say. Why do I remember that?

I remember shortly thereafter the pain of the needle as I was being sewn up from a minor tear. Actually it was the pain from the numbing solution not the stitching itself. Beosig peeked over at me to be sure I was ok as I didn't make that much noise pushing Kiernan out. Needles do NOT belong...there! Ouch.

I remember a short while after the big event, a seemingly brief and quiet few hours in the room with just Beosig and I. I recall a number of phone calls, eating/drinking and staring down upon our new creation with eyes of wonder. I remember telling him to go home for the night and get some sleep so one of us would be coherent the next day.

The thing that stands out most in my mind is that night. Beosig had gone home at my suggestion. I had Kiernan swaddled and tucked in the crook of my arm (he used to fit there perfectly *sigh*) and just staring at him endlessly as he slept. I felt I could have sat there all night doing nothing else. My heart swelled with pride and a love like one I never knew could exist. I remember looking at the clock and realizing it was midnight and I had nearly been up for 24 hours at that point before I finally crashed for the night.

As bedtime approached, I took Kiernan downstairs to his room, rocked him to sleep and reflected upon that same moment 2 years ago, just the two of us in the still of the night.

No longer does Kiernan fit in the crook of my arm perfectly, but instead his legs dangle over my own when he lays across my lap, his head nestled in close to me. The days of his needing nourishment from me every 2-3 hours and sharing our bed long gone. I miss those early days, and yet I look forward to what this new year will bring. I look down upon him and smile, kiss his forehead goodnight, and as I place him in his own bed I whisper my own birthday wish to him. Happy birthday my little man and good night.