Wow... amazing to believe but a mere 26 years ago I was in (horrible, terrible) labor giving birth to my beautiful daughter Sarah.
To say that I can't believe how quickly time passes is the understatement of the century. That particular event is one that I actually wish I could recall every single moment... but of course, I can't.
What I do remember is...
My daughter's dad (Gregg) and I were staying with his Mom and Dad when I went into labor. At the time, we lived at the end of a long, long lane. We had a lot of snow in February of 1982, so every time the flakes started to fall, I was whisked somewhere for closer access to my hospital.
I had rotating obstetricians. The old, angry, ready-to-retire-any-day obstetrician was the one I DIDN'T want... Of course, that's the one I got.
I was scared out of my mind. When I get into the labor room there was a woman screaming her head off... I learned she was having her FOURTH child, which did little to make me feel any better about the upcoming events.
The only thing to focus on during labor was no lie, a clock... (The kind of clock that you had in your classroom in school... The large, round ones, you know?)
So... I had my choice of focusing on the clock (which seemed to be going backwards) or Gregg, who was diligently watching the machine that kept track of my contractions. He'd dutifully inform me, "One is coming... it's coming..." Uh, like I didn't already know or what?
He also chose that time to inform me that he wasn't really all that crazy about our choice of Sarah Nicole as our daughter's name? Not that we knew what the sex of our new arrival would be. If she had been a boy, she would have been named Alex.
At that point, I could have cared less if the kid had a name or not!
For some reason, I though NOT screaming made me brave. SO DUMB!!! At one point during labor, I passed out. When I woke up or came to, I had an oxygen mask on... Things seemed to start moving a lot quicker after that.
The old, angry, ready-to-retire-any-day obstetrician yelled at Gregg about touching me or anything. What a grump!
There was a mirror set up in the delivery room so I could see our baby being born. Of course, I was pushing for all I was worth, so at the actual moment of Sarah's arrival, my eyes were closed! I didn't get to see a darn thing!
Her dad cut the umbilical cord. I don't think he got yelled at anymore which I'm sure he was relieved about!
I got a quick look at my tiny daughter as they whisked her away to do all the medical stuff. I'll be honest... as thrilled as I was that she had arrived was in equal measure to just how freakin' exhausted I was...
Apparently, (and this may be more information than some of you might want to know about me...) there was some tearing during the birth which means stitches were involved. For some crazy reason, the anesthetic shot didn't work. All I am going to say to that is ouch... every-ouch-stitch-ouch.
I was taken back to my room and my daughter was brought in for me to hold. There are pictures to document the event. When I see them I can't believe how young Gregg and I both were.
Sarah "Beth" (her dad's idea, not mine) was the most beautiful, bald, little billiard ball of a baby that I had ever seen.
There was a steady stream of proud grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends who were as thrilled as Gregg and me that Sarah had finally arrived.
To celebrate the baby's birth, our hospital provided a special steak dinner which included a complimentary bottle of champagne. I was all post-baby hormonal and spilled the champagne all over my bed...
I cried harder than my new daughter.
It was truly one of the most joyous experiences of my life. My daughter has turned into an amazing, brilliant woman who is sensitive, kind, and loving. My world, and the world in general, is a better place because she is in it. I love her so very much.
I just can't believe it was 26 years ago...
For those who might be wondering why this post is entitled My Little Tuner... It's because I am horrible about giving my children nicknames. Sarah started out as Tunisia (don't ask me why...) Eventually, it was shortened to Tuner... and Tuney. (Poor kid.)
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