Amelia Catherine

Yeah, that was labor.

I finally took it seriously when I got up to get a drink of water and literally fell to my knees on the kitchen floor. I started screaming for Simon. After about three minutes he called from the bedroom, "What?"

"What do you think?" I yelled back.

The contractions were still sort of irregular, but the on-call doctor told us to come on in and he'd check me out. Simon roused our next-door neighbors, who were kind enough to come over at 3:30 am to sit for Henry.

The contractions were so painful by the time we got to the hospital they had to send a wheelchair out for me, I think because it looked bad to have someone screaming on their front walkway. Once I got to triage I was already 5 cm, which surprised me because with Henry I was only 3 cm after 9 hours of labor and 4 hours of pitossin.

I asked for the epidural, because, well, it hurt, but it took them forever to get the required 1 liter of fluid into me, so by the time the anesthesiologist came along I was 8 cm. I got the epi anyway, which was silly. I've been beating myself up about that ever since, but, God, it felt nice at the time.

My OB called to say she was on her way, and that Dr. E, the on-call doctor, could break my water if he wanted. So he did, with this long white hook, and it exploded out so fast it got all over my feet. There was meconium, or baby poop for those not familiar with birth lingo, which can be bad, but I wasn't worried.

My OB arrived at 6 a.m. We chatted about her kids for a while. Then I said, "I think I feel some pressure," and sure enough I was 10 cm. Dr. S said I could start to push, and I pushed once and she crowned, which set off a whole flurry of activity involving disassembling the bed/delivery table and Dr. S stepping into some sort of official baby-catching robe.

I pushed again and her head was there, which I could feel just fine, thank you, epidural or no. Dr. S said I didn't tear at all at her head, but then baby got me with her elbow as her shoulders emerged, and so there were some stitches after all.

I pushed for less than 10 minutes, and at 6:43 a.m. there she was covered in poop and a girl. When they said it was a girl I sat up to check for myself. Then I cried. I had no idea I wanted a girl so much.

The meconium turned out to be nothing bad. They spent maybe two minutes suctioning her mouth and wiping her off, and then she was with me, and five minutes after that she bobbed her pink little head over to my breast and started nursing like a pro.

So I was in labor less than 6 hours. Not bad. I so didn't need the epidural.

So now we're home and adjusting. Henry is a champ. He loves the baby, kisses the baby, cuddles the baby, and then quickly loses interest because she doesn't do anything. Visitors have been very gracious about bringing gifts for him, too, so the whole ordeal has been kind of an extended birthday.

Amelia is beautiful and oddly advanced in her motor skills. Yesterday I put her on her tummy and she immediately turned her head to the other side. Then today I laid her on her back on the couch and she flipped over onto her tummy. I don't know what that's about.

She is also very, very hungry. We had to supplement with some formula before my milk came in because she was so damn angry and because poor Henry ended up dehydrated from lack of breastmilk and then never nursed again.

Oh, and she doesn't like to sleep on her back. Or in her bed. Or anywhere that is not my boob, which is sweet, but really not feasible. As a result, she ends up staying awake for four to six hours at a time, then getting frantic, then crashing for five hours.

Mostly it's great. She's great. It's so different from Henry. He seemed so fragile to me from the moment I saw his funny-looking face. Amelia seemed tough and confident from the get-go, even though she was smeared in baby poop.

I'm functioning OK now, although I have had moments of sobbing, wondering why I chose to go through newborn-hood again, mourning the days when it was just Henry and me, kicking around town, sleeping through the night. But then those moments pass, and I love her and Henry and Simon and our whole little family.

I have no idea how any of this will work once Simon goes back to work, but for now we are doing OK.