Excerpt from Nora's birth story

I am almost finished writing Nora's birth story. After each of my children was born, it was one of my top priorities to record every detail in writing before I forgot everything. This time, it is taking me a long time to complete it. I started the first week we were home, but have had a hard time finding the right mental energy to get it done.

I'm not sure who will actually want to read the whole thing anyhow, but that isn't the point. I'm not writing it for you. I'm writing it for me. And someday for Nora. So, I'll eventually probably post the whole thing here, but for now, I just wanted to leave a few paragraphs for everyone.


Excerpted from Nora's birth story, September 9, 2009...

Getting all this attention and basking in the afterglow of having given birth, I began to be hit with the emotions that everything was happening for the last time. I had been so utterly relieved after she was born to know that I was done being pregnant and I was done with the pain. But was I really done? Was I really never going to feel another baby moving inside of me. Was I really never going to push a baby out of my body? Was I really never going to feel this incredible emotional high of giving birth? Was I really never going to look into the eyes of my brand new baby for the first time? Was I really never going to be this pampered and taken care of? Was I really going to walk away and never do this again?

I was overcome with emotion, mostly sadness, that this was all ending. But what it also made me do was to begin to take notice and cherish each moment and part of this journey. The last journey I will take as the mother of a brand new baby. The last time my body will feel such intense pain and pleasure. The last time I can look at this little baby and imagine it inside my body. I didn't want her to grow or change. I just wanted to capture this feeling forever. To be able to look at her and imagine her curled inside me just hours before. I wanted to relive every moment and every feeling of her birth. I didn't want to forget anything. And now that I'm finishing writing this birth story over six weeks after the fact, I am scared that I'm forgetting something and that my writing isn't powerful enough. I know that my memories are already fading. I'm already forgetting what it felt like to feel such a sense of accomplishment of bringing this baby into the world. And that makes me sad, too.

I know I also have a lot of joy and anticipation of the future, and all those happy emotions are present, too. But a part of me still mourns the end of this chapter of my life. In the last few weeks of my pregnancy, I thought heavily of all the things I was so ready to be done with. I was so incredibly tired of being pregnant. I was ready to be able to move and hold my children on my lap whenever I wanted. My body felt old and tired and I was ready to be free again. I was ready to get rid of my maternity clothes. I was ready to get rid of all the boy clothes and start in on the girl clothes. I was ready to look forward to getting rid of all the huge baby equipment cluttering our house. I was so ready. And now that I'm here, I just want time to stand still. At least for a moment, I want to be right here and not go any further.

On Friday morning, our last morning in the hospital, I stood in the bathroom holding little Nora and just wept. I didn't want this to end. I wanted to hold onto these feelings forever. She was never going to be this little and I was never going to feel this powerful. After having myself a good cry, I went back out into the room and sat with Steve on the chair and cried some more. I said, "I'm okay, I'm just sad that it's all over." He calmly said, "It's just beginning." I know it is and I'm looking forward to the journey, but I'm still a little sad.