Day 29: That Day Our Daughter Was Born

I’ve been trying to write the story of the day Posey was born all month. But there just aren’t words for it. Mostly because that day doesn’t belong to me. I was there. I held hands and refilled water and kept the Pandora music coming, but it wasn’t my day. I wasn’t doing the hard work.

The moment that baby came into the world is one of the holiest moments of my life. Whoosh she came, into the water. Suddenly here. Perfectly formed. Wholly loved.

Later, as B and I recounted the birth, we both remarked on how connected we felt. To each other. To womanhood. To God. To family.

At one point there was a group of women surrounding the tub—her midwife, nurses, me—and we were urging her forward. Keep going. You can do this. You are doing this. She’d moan, reaching for my hand, resting her forehead on my arm. I whispered. Stayed calm. Did it just like we’d practiced.

The room was dark; illuminated only by blue tub lights and little votive “candles.”

It was just us and the process. It’s something my body will never do, and I don’t take lightly the invitation to be a witness.

At 9:43 pm she arrived. 13 hours after we’d gotten to the hospital. 15 hours since the text message had chimed on my phone—-”my water broke.”

After the nurse weighed and measured her, she handed her to me, wrapped in a pink and blue striped blanket.

“Hello Josephine,” I whispered in her ear. “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”

Tonight that baby squealed with delight as I filled up the bathtub, standing on her tip toes to look inside. Maybe a part of her knows she was born in the water; that she came kicking into the world, floating right into our hearts.

Someday we will tell her all about the night she was born and how we were both there. Both her mothers. Two women who love her from her nose to her tippy toes. Her first mother who labored bravely and confidently to bring her into this world. Who did the hardest thing there is to do when she chose me to be her baby’s mama.

It was the longest hardest happiest saddest holiest day of my life. A day that makes me thankful for every day after.

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{This post is a part of a 31 Days series of telling our story. You can find an index of all the 31 days entries here.}

 

Comments

  1. Laura P says

    Love this. So much. Such a special moment that you will remember and be able to share with Posey.

  2. JIll says

    Lovely. I like this longest hardest happiest saddest holiest day of my life”. There is something so special about sharing birth through adoption. Your words summed it up for me. Thanks.

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