My First “Mother’s Day”

I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of a Mother’s Day post. Last year I wrote the Ode to the Bad Mother, so don’t want to repeat myself with that theme. Obviously I don’t have any photos or recipes of this year’s festivities (stay tuned…). So after days of thinking, I’ve decided to share with you my first Mother’s Day. Not the May Hallmark holiday. But my first day as a mother – November 9, 2007 – the day Sophie was born.

Of course one can argue that I became a mother the day Sophie was conceived. But I’m focusing on the day she physically entered this world.

My Mother’s Day saga began Thursday, November 8, 2007 when we checked into the hospital for an 8 a.m. induction. Since stubborn Sophie showed no signs of entering this world on time (should have known then she’d have a mind of her own), we opted for the doctor-recommended induction. A wise choice because, quite honestly, I was ready for her to get out!

The doctors and nurses started the process and hours went by and … no Sophie. It soon turned to 1 p.m. … 4 p.m. … 8 p.m. … 11 p.m. … you get the idea. At least it was NBC’s “Must See TV” night and we had something to occupy our time. Thank you, Michael Scott!

Around 1 a.m. I was one centimeter dilated and opted for the heavenly epidural. My water broke around 5 a.m., but Sophie was still not budging. Finally at 8 a.m. on Friday, November 9, 2007, after 24 hours of induced labor and only 3 cm dilation, the doctor said, “That kid isn’t going anywhere. We’re doing the C-section.”

The next 45 minutes is a blur as I’m wheeled into the operating room not sure what to expect.  Bryan was whisked away with the camera, but he luckily appeared in the OR before an incision was made.

And then – at 8:49 a.m. – Sophie was pulled from my stomach and I saw her for the first time. It was completely surreal. Little Sophie was placed gently in my arms, wrapped in a white blanket with pink and blue stripes and a tiny hat. She was barely an hour old and looked as tired as I was. As I held her in my arms, I stared at her little pink face, tiny finger nails, dark hair, and big eyes. She was so quiet; didn’t make a peep (that silence was short-lived). She seemed content, as if she was right where she knew she should be.

The rest of that day is somewhat of a blur. I remember wondering when she’d sleep. She was so alert and awake, with eyes wide open. I marveled how this little creature was growing in me for nine months. Now she was finally here, in my arms.

That “Mother’s Day” gift was better than any Hallmark card.

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