Scared wasn’t the word. I was terrified of having to push you out. I knew one day I would “pop” but I didn’t think it’d happen so soon. After 18 hours of labor, I went under the knife. It was the only way you’d survive. My fluid was low and you’d be crammed inside my uterus.
Prior to your birth, I had never experienced having a surgery. Although I wasn’t prepared for it, I knew it would be rewarding.
But before I would be rewarded, there was a battle I needed to face. I had to tell myself it would be okay. I felt the needle of the epidural enter my lower back. Although I wanted to cry, I knew it was necessary.
Your father was there beside me the whole time. He was the first of the two of us to hold you. I was exhausted. Having you in my arms for the first time was the best feeling. I won’t deny that before you were brought into the recovery room all I wanted was sleep.
It took me 20+ hours to meet you, but it was worth it in the end. You’ve left a permanent smile imprinted on our hearts and in the place where you came from, one that I am proud to see each morning.
‘Til tomorrow, folks…