“The day that she came
I’m freezing that frame”

It’s like the night before you go to Six Flags

You can’t really sleep

You rehearse your morning in your mind

What you’ll put on
What you’ll do first
What it will all be like

It’s the same

The night before my second daughter is born

I lay in the dark of our room

Blinking needlessly

The house is a little too quiet
My first daughter’s room is empty

I keep nervously checking the time on my phone
Adding up my remaining hours of sleep

I make one last list in my mind
Of what not to forget
My mind being the last place I should keep anything

Sooner than it should

4:30 am rolls in

He gets up first
I hear him shuffle through the house
The coffee grinder hums
The lights go on in the living room

Soon I hear the shower start

I realize

While I lay in the dark room
Listening to my own breath

That these are the last moments
She will be a part of my body
The last moments to feel her roll in my stomach

Finally my last few months of misery
Feel like a blessing

I place my hand over my stomach
Start to hum her favorite lullaby

Sure enough

Her little hand reaches out
To meet mine
Rubs up and down my palm

She stays pressed against my hand for the remainder of the song

I feel the tiny joy tears
As they pool in the corners of my eyes

For a minute
It’s just me and her in the world

Catalogue this quiet moment
In "things to think about when I die"

He stands in the doorway
Sillouhetted in the light from the living room
Hair in a towel and an anxious grin on his face

"It's time Sweetheart."

I smile back and sigh softly
As the baby moves away

"I'm up."

I put on the clothes I laid out
Wash my face
Pull my hair up

Try to not be thirsty

Before long we are stuffed in the car in the dark morning

Baby seats and hospital bags and a cooler and all the stuff we didn't bring the first time

The ride to the hospital is fun

We joke and laugh

It feels kinda like a first date

Nerves and excitement and the unknown

We of course check into the wrong desk on the wrong floor of the hospital

But before long we have our bracelets on and are ushered into the pre op room

Due to hospital renovations…this room used to be a break room

It retains a copier at the foot of my bed

A curtained desk in the corner

A mini fridge and a hanging room divider

On the other side of which

A first time couple

Gets settled in and starts to ask all the questions that we already know the answers to

I smile almost endearingly at their obvious anxiety

In between signing forms that release the hospital from having to pay out money if they kill me

Being stuck with needles and hooked up to the drip machines

Even though we are in a break room

I feel so calm and peaceful

And so very ready to meet my little girl

And also

So trepidatious to have my heart rent another time

To have so much of myself living outside of me

And then there’s the surgery part

I try to think of it as a friend

Without whom I likely wouldn’t have survived bearing children

They bring in the awful blue bonnet

And the paper suit for Baby Daddy

My mind darts to my first baby

She’s up by now

Eating oatmeal and watching cartoons at her Nanny’s house

Unaware that today

Her whole life will change as well

I didn’t have time to do this much considering when she was born

Her birthday

Much like her personality

Was a day to be reckoned with

This morning is calmer

But no less charged

I go back

By myself

To get my epidural and get prepped

Which for a C-section feels an awful lot like being strapped down for some sort of medieval torture

You lay like a crucifix

And pray all your attendants have had their cappuccinos

I’ll spare you the details

Of what it feels like to have a child cut out of your stomach

The medicine kills the pain

But not the tugging and the pressure and the sensation of being open

In seemingly no time

And also forever

The moment arrives

That cold room

Suddenly becomes

The most joyous place in the world

My little Glory Girl comes shining into the world

It’s a feeling too incredible to explain

Words would be an insult

For a small moment

You know all the goodness in the world

All at once

Eventually

After much kissing and crying and holding

We are rolled to recovery

She nurses

We take our first nap

And I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t

A time when she wasn’t at the very least

In the making

She seems to shine like the sun

The night nurses fight over who will hold her

She never cries

Only wants your face on her face

Only always wants to be held by Mommy

When they bring her to me

In the middle of the night to nurse

I find myself waking up early

Missing her

Eager to wrap her up in my greedy arms

Later

When we are home

Wrangling both our Gifts

I go to sleep at night

Taking deep contented breaths

And pushing my mind back

To the day that she came

To the golden light she seems to always cast

Even the daunting recovery from surgery

Pales compared to what we have been given

For a girl who was told

Children were not in the cards

I can’t help but feel

No matter what darkness exists in the world

I’m one lucky duck

To have so much light

“Therefore, my heart is glad.
My Glory also rejoiceth.
My flesh shall rest in hope.”

"Gold Dust"