KDUNK

12/4/07 at 9:40AM my daughter Lilian Birdie Shepard was born.

But first…I will start at the beginning…

9PMish – I was on the couch watching ‘Survivorman’. I like that show. It makes me feel as if my life is so easy in comparison and that I will also be prepared to make a fire out of a fish hook and some human hair should I be stuck on an iceberg in Alaska. At the commercial break I got my first of many labor pains to come. Husband watched the clock. The pain was different than labor pains I had before. I thought ‘oh shit’. This is it.

9:30PMish until 5AMish – some vague things went on here during this time period. I think I attempted to sleep like they recommend in the books – but it’s like drinking ten Red Bulls and saying, “Think I’m just going to shut my eyes for a while…” The book also suggests a bunch of other absurd things that frankly you have no interest in doing as you are waiting for the labor to REALLY kick in such as ‘write a letter to the baby’, ‘enjoy some cheese and crackers with your husband’, etc. What??!

5AMish – water breaks while in bed. This is not the water breaking you see in movies or read about aka the mini tsunami that requires ten towels. It’s more like, “Did I just pee myself?” The start of many glamorous elements to childbirth. Tell husband water broke. He has look of ‘oh shit’. This is it. We call doctor – (mine not on call until mid-morning). Doc is very nice and says, “Why don’t you come in.” I say, “No – I’m feeling great. I’ll come in around 10AM or so…” (it’s 5AM currently) There is a long pause until she says, “Ok honey…but no need to be a soldier in this…”

5:05ish – (five minutes later) I drop to knees of bedroom screaming with worst labor pain yet. Scream to husband, “CALL THE DOCTOR!!!!” Husband calls back, “Hi? It’s us that just called? Yeah. We’re actually coming in after all.” Oops.

5:30ish – husband calls car service to pick us up. (this is what you do in Brooklyn when you don’t have a car) Husband runs around apartment gathering eight – yes eight bags we have packed (I hear you parents snickering out there…) I am clutching two giant bed pillows. Between contractions I am a normal human able to talk, walk, laugh and breath. When a contraction comes I drop to the ground like someone has shot me from behind and moan, groan and breath while husband counts, “ONE TWO…(deep breath and exhales)…” The counting actually helps me. Gives me illusion of control. I can already tell I am having trouble talking through contractions which means they are coming faster and so is the baby.

5:45am – car service arrives. Instead of the usual sleek Lincoln Town car they usually send it’s literally a beat up lemon off the lot with the bumper hanging off and come to find – no shocks. I feel every bump while driving to the hospital which can only be described as water skiing while nine months pregnant. We continue our breathing. The driver keeps looking in the review mirror at me. He looks nervous.

6:00am – arrive to the entrance of hospital. I am surprised I did not give birth over the cobblestone streets of Chelsea in car with no shocks. Husband unloads 55 bags from car and while doing so I walk towards entrance but have a HORRIBLE contraction mid-way. I drop to knees on the freezing cold streets of New York, clutching two bed pillows and lean against brick wall of hospital building exterior. Wind chill – FREEZING.

6:05am – out of nowhere a short, beautiful Chinese woman in a rose colored jacket walks up to the building’s entrance. She rushes over to me and leans down to where I am laboring and says softly and calmly with hand on my back, “Sweetie are you in labor? Who is your doctor? I am a midwife with the hospital. After this contraction I’m going to pick you up and we are going to walk inside and I will bring you upstairs. You are doing such a good job. Breath…breath…” Miracle Midwife talked me through the contraction and when it was over I stood up. She held my hand and rubbed my back. I turned around looking for husband who was still unloading 55 bags.

6:15am – Miracle Midwife (who I have never met in my entire life) helps me to make it upstairs to birthing center but I collapse again on knees outside the nurse’s station. Miracle Midwife – still with me – kneels besides me on floor saying calmly, “You are doing such a good job. Your baby is coming. Soon your baby will be here. Breath. Breath. After this contraction we are going to bring you into the birthing room, ok? You’re doing great.” Another nurse asks if anyone is with me at the hospital. I look back for husband – who apparently is now loading 55 bags onto elevator. I am afraid he will miss the birth. Oh well. There is always email.

6:30am – heroic husband arrives sweating and carrying 55 bags. Nursing staff enjoys good chuckle over amount of bags. I am not laughing. I am on ground again this time blood pouring out my body. Is this normal? HELP! Nurse tells me I need to get off floor (but I like the floor) and into bed so they can get me some relief. So cruel I think. So cruel! What’s wrong with the floor?!

6:45am – doctor I spoke to on the phone comes in. Very sweet. Contractions coming on and off and HARD. I vaguely notice but the hustle and bustle in room has increased as doctors and nurses prepare things and scurry about. Husband by my side. Miracle Midwife still there too. Doctor examines me and says I am six centimeters. Everyone is excited by this especially me. Most people come to the hospital two centimeters which sucks and you have to wait longer. Lets get this show on the road!

7:00am – laboring continues and husband now by my side. A sweet nurse named Ellen on my left. Labor pains peak and are HORRIBLE but Ellen and husband talk me through them. Husband counts, “ONE TWO…(deep breath and exhales)…” and again “ONE TWO THREE …(deep breath and exhales)…” Mid-contraction I scream at the top of my lungs at him, “NO THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” like he personally is trying to murder me. He sort of is by trying to extend my contraction longer by counting to three and not two. He says, “Ok! Ok! Sorry! No three…” The nurses giggle. He does not do this again.

7:15am – Now I’m pissed. WHERE IS MY PAIN RELIEF???!!!! I NEED RELIEF!!!!! I am screaming. During a contraction I am moaning and making sounds like an animal. Sounds I never have made before and at a volume that is thunderous.

7:30am – Doctor comes back in. Suddenly Magical Midwife appears again and grabs my hand. Leans in close to my face and says, “Kristen…you are NINE centimeters dilated. NINE! You can do this. You don’t need the epidural you can do this. Your baby is coming.” I look into her eyes. They are wide and beautiful and hopeful and I believe her. I must confess here that if someone said the only way to get pain relief in labor was to be stabbed in the eye with a long needle I would have said yes. Prior to labor and during. But for some reason I trusted her – and my body. Luckily – I was able to get a spinal which helped take the edge off. By ‘taking the edge off’ in labor terms this means someone pouring you a glass of wine while another person begins to saw off your leg. Good times.

7:45am – my usual doc comes in. She is shocked and excited for me. Says she is proud of me for laboring on my own at home for so long and that I am almost there. She says she thought she might not make it in time my labor was happening so fast. I’m thinking, “That’s nice. Can you please go get your scrubs on?” She leaves room immediately after seeing look on my face.

8:00am – barely making it through contractions or so it seems. They feel horrible and endless. I can only focus on the doorknob of the fake wood paneled cabinet in the birthing room. Miracle Midwife has disappeared again – weaving in and out of my memories of the labor like a little angel. Husband remains amazing support talking me through them.

8:15am – Doc returns in scrubs and it is time to push. Nurse Ellen on left leg, husband on right leg and doc at the end. This seems cruel. I was just getting comfortable as in – able to position my body in a way where I could labor through a contraction and now I have to scoot down to the end of the bed, put my legs in the air and pretend like I’m taking the biggest dump of my life? It sucks. What next – SOMEONE ADDS A THREE??????

8:30- 9:14am- Pushing goes on forever. Nurse Ellen and doc start to get stern – in a good way because I push and than exhale too early. The baby’s head starts to poke out and they see her head and even her blinking eyes then I exhale and the baby gets sucked back in. Doc gets stern and tells me I really need to do this. I don’t want to disappoint – so I make it happen. Husband is freaking out and yelling, “Oh my god! The head! The head!” He looked so excited it helped me motivate. Plus I really wanted this to end. Dear god. I am also hungry.

9:15am – the final push. This is it. She slides out quickly. There is a momentary rush of people talking at once and excitement and a flurry of activity and my husband crying and a slimy cute bloody purple cone head thing coming towards me as Doc says, “It’s a girl!”

My husband: It’s a girl!

Me: It’s a girl???!! Oh my god. It’s a girl!!!

Much staring at this blinking, tiny human being with feet and arms and legs and a nose and lips…we made her.

Me: I think she’s a Lilian.

Later I was wheeled to the recovery room and passed the Miracle Midwife in the hallway. We stopped and I reached out my hand to her and started to cry.

Me: Thank you sooo much. I don’t even know what to say to you. You were like an angel that came out of nowhere.

She walked away smiling. Still never got her name.