august 27, 2006. 7:33 am
20 1/2 inches. 7 pounds sixteen ounces.

“…the child who is born on the Sabbath day /is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.”

m was a total surprise to us. after a summer of dreadful fertility meds prescribed for reasons that dr h admitted at the time were more psychological than physiological, i told him i needed some time off. he agreed. and then apparently i was so relaxed by the break from the protocols that i quit ovulating altogether. so i went about my life, took some trips, had some fun…and voila. on christmas eve 2005 i was feeling suspiciously unwell. s was out on a training ride, so i took a private pg-test. moments later i was calling dr. h (who answered his page by exclaiming “holy shit! merry christmas!”) and then i was off to fill my scrips for progesterone and heparin. i put together a little box of baby things, including the pee-stick, and gave it to s as a christmas-eve gift. he opened the box and stared at me. “what are you telling me?” he whispered, over and over and over.

the little miss came to us a long and worry-filled 9 months later. after a beautifully normal labor (sometimes i do get lucky) and the absolutely wonderful assistance of s and our two kick-ass doulas, dr h. determined that the babelet was not making enough progress quickly enough…stuck at 0 station for too many hours, he said. he wanted a c section. i didn’t. too bad, huh? (and then sometimes i don’t get lucky.)

when all is said and done i know that what matters is that m is here, she’s safe, and we both made it through delivery. but every now and then i get just a little peeved that i didn’t deliver her “my way.”

but that was a good lesson in parenting — the kid (who still LOVES to be held head-down, face-up, that damned non-progressing labor position) teaches me daily that “my way,” whatever it is, is not all that relevant. and it’s a good lesson to learn. i want the world to run my way, but it oh-so-clearly does not.

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