You were born at 10:59am on Thursday, July 3rd, 2008. You weighed 7 pounds 10 ounces and measured 21 inches long. You had dark hair, impossibly long feet and perfect little ears. You were beautiful.
The sun was shining by the time you arrived that morning, but it was cool, dark and rainy when Mom and Dad checked in to the hospital at 11pm the previous night. Over the course of the next twelve hours, Mom was the picture of strength, weathering the storm of each contraction without pain medication. With the help of a midwife named Amy and three different nurses (first Kate, then Natalie and Syra), Mom went from the bed to the birth ball; from the birth ball to the shower; from the shower back to the birth ball; from the birth ball back to the shower; from the shower to the tub; and from the tub back to the bed. Dad was with her every step of the way and woke up the next morning with the sore back to prove it.
As labor progressed and Mom's pain became more intense, Dad reminded her to stay in the present rather than dwelling on the contraction that had just passed or worrying about the one that was right around the corner. Mom responded like a champ, using the time between contractions to rest and to communicate which comfort measures were working and which weren't. By the time Mom was in the tub, word had spread that she was laboring without an epidural. And by the time she was fully dilated, a nursing student, a med student and an on-call OBGYN had all come to the delivery room to watch Mom push.
And what a sight it was. With Dad holding one leg and Natalie holding the other, Amy coached Mom through the last forty minutes of labor. Dad watched in complete awe as Mom summoned all her strength to push, push, push you into this world. First your head appeared, then your face and finally your entire body emerged, slippery, writhing, miraculous.
Amy placed you on Mom's chest while Dad stopped crying just long enough to cut the umbilical cord. Mom and Dad took one look at one another and, after the most amazing night of their lives, decided on something they had known for months:
Your name was Grace Emily.
And you were loved.
Love,
Dad
6 comments:
Crying...
I can't wait to meet her. Rob says the world is a better place with a child of yours in it. Agreed.
I hope Grace is fortunate enough to read this blog entry in the future. Your love for your daughter shines through...congrats to you both.
In the first few moments of their lives, they teach you a new love, the depths of which you could never before comprehend.
My family told me. "Yeah, I get it," I said. My friends told me. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," I said. As it turns out, I didn't get it.
The moment I met my Ava, I got it. I wish for that moment for everyone. There is no measure for the joy.
Oh, yeah. Forget the whole "sleep" thing.
yay! somehow i just knew you would name her after grace slick. can't wait to see you guys soon.
Best post ever. I'm so happy for you guys! Welcome Grace!
Bawling....and I went to write that before I even saw my sister's comment.
Congratulations to both of you. She is AMAZING!
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