stage one, phase one: 5:00pm april 10th - 12:45am april 11th

the infamous, omnipotent, anonymous "they" always say that patience is a virtue...and while I don't doubt that, in my case, eff patience...I didn't need no parts of that thurr. the very day my baby was finally due, april 10th, I went into early labor...somewhere around 5pm when I was on my way out the door with my friend genevieve to eat an early dinner down the street. since harriet, our childbirth educator, kept reiterating that there was really no reason to rush to the hospital when you initially go into labor, I waved it off and continued out the door, not even entirely certain it wasn't on the false labor tip...we only had to stop once along the way for a contraction to pass before we got to the restaurant. alas, by the time my minestrone and grilled chicken salad had arrived, I was feeling a level of discomfort I really wasn't prepared for...contractions were already four to five minutes apart which I wasn't expecting for hours upon hours so we decided to make it a to-go affair and head back to the house. I had already started to lose my appetite, which annoyed me somewhat because gen had ordered gnocchi and it was mighty tasty. I called christopher at work and updated him...he was about to get off anyway, so he said he'd meet me back at the apartment in less than an hour.

as short of a walk as it is from the restaurant to my apartment (somewhere in the neighborhood, no pun intended, of an eight minute stroll) I could hardly make it a few steps without literally doubling over in pain...thankfully a delivery man from the restaurant just happened to be walking to his car at that time and after explaining to him that no, I didn't need to use the bathroom rather I'd just gone into labor he amusedly agreed to drive us four blocks up the street to the front of my building.

earlier that day I'd gone into mrs. clean mode; sweeping and mopping the floors, putting the slipcover on the couch, dusting, taking out the trash...when gen and I got back to the apartment I continued to straighten up, like I was being guided by some strange, clean little otherwordly source, as I packed my hospital bag. no, I hadn't packed it yet. I'd honestly intended to pack it later that night after christopher and I got back from seeing sin city - I mean who really thinks they're going to go into labor on the very day they're due...shit is like really rare. anyway...I continued to pack until well after christopher walked in the door unsuccessfully trying to downplay his excitement...panties, change of clothes, gigantor maxi pads, ipod, socks, toothbrush and toothpaste, hair brush, lotion, granola bars...packing was distracting me from the pain and I continued to stuff my bag to overflowing until I couldn't take it anymore and finally paged my obgyn. I didn't realize how much it was really starting to hurt until I sat down to await her call...it seemed kinda unreal something could hurt like that already...ha, little did I know that at that point I was still around 24 hours away from pushing out the beans...the way I was feeling, and as close together as them shits were coming (four minutes by the time my doctor's alternate called me back since she wasn't on call until 8am the next morning), I figured I'd be popping shorty out within a few hours tops. naive huny. even gen couldn't tell me any different, and she's a doctor an shit.

on instruction from the doctor, christopher, gen, and I finally left for our hospital - st. luke's roosevelt in mid-manhattan. by this time it was around 9 o'clock; only four hours since I'd started getting contractions. I was more annoyed then excited; I knew I probably should've at least attempted to stay at home a bit longer but my father was worrying me to death to get to the hospital (my mother was only in labor with me for four hours before she had a cesarean, so he really has no perception of how long it really takes), plus the cab driver, who it'd taken twenty minutes to flag down,was whipping around like nigga nascar and every bump hurt. riding along the east river, however, did bring back memories of the first night christopher and I met...it was the same ride we'd made from laguardia aiport to midtown manhattan...if mobb deep's quiet storm had started playing on the radio it would've completed the deja-vu. anyway...it was kinda poignant an shit...the completion of that part of our life...an entire cycle bookmarked by two car rides. past the infatuation stage.

being in labor is nothing like it is on television or in the movies...your water rarely breaks before contractions start (infact, many times the water is broken by a doctor once you're already admitted into the hospital), you don't get rushed to labor/delivery when you tell the front desk of the maternity floor you're in labor, and the pushing part doesn't very often come until hours upon hours after you've been sitting, writhing, assuming fetal positions and sweating through contractions. it ain't pretty and it ain't ready for prime time, fools...infact, I was waved off to the same waiting room the families sit in whilst they await their own oven bunnies in restless anticipation after I informed the front that I was in labor. the nurse that directed me hence, after looking at me doubtfully, said "how do you know you're in labor?" I replied, after a quizzical pause in which I contimplated slapping the taste out her mouth, "because I'm in pain". "is this your first child?" "yes"...thats all she needed to know to convince herself I was probably overreacting and in the very mild midst of false labor. off to the waiting room with my first baby having ass. gen tried to take pictures...after a few I had to tell her to put the camera away...not every facial expression is meant to be recorded. by the time I was finally called into the...I dunno what it was, the "you're not quite admitted yet cause you're probably in false labor" room...it was well after ten p.m. contractions were getting worse although they were no longer four minutes apart...they'd moved back to six consistently. I'm actually wondering if at this point in the story I should explain exactly what contractions feel like...no adjective I've yet utilized even approaches the stratosphere of how mind numbingly horrifying...eh, nevermind I'll get to that later...maybe in another paragraph or so...not ready to relive it yet. anyway. after I was instructed to strip naked and put on one of those fashionable hospital gowns that insure your ass and backside will stay chilly (hospitals are dumb breezy, kid) I was greeted by a couple residents, one of whom was named troy. I didn't like troy from jump; he looked like a cross between a keg humping frat boy and a talk show host and he tried to kick christopher out. I politely asked if christopher could, infact, stay, as harriet had told us it was our right to request the fathers stay with us at all times and troy looked at me crazy. like he wanted to try me. but he wisely decided not to...good boy, troy. he asked me all types of shit, I really don't recall what exactly as every three minutes I was deliriously disconnected from reality as the cramping in my lower abdomen became worse. after he was done the alternate doctor I'd talked to earlier from home showed up to examine me. she promptly announced that I was in false labor and was still only a centimeter and a half dialated; same as I'd been at my regular obgyn appointment two days previous...I looked at her incredulously, probably whimpered a little, tried to sniff back tears...expressed frustration, tried to make it perfectly clear that this couldn't be false, it hurt too much to be false, something must be wrong, please admit me. she started out the door again, throwing over her shoulder: "we can't admit you until you're in labor miss young, go ahead home and come back in the morning". I hated her at that moment, actually along with everyone on earth except christopher and gen - the only two people who believed me when I said I didn't think I should go home, that something was going on inside that wasn't routine. no matter, before I could reluctantly get dressed again a resident named katherine came in and told me to sit tight; my blood pressure was a bit elevated and they'd found protein in my urine - two warning signs of a pregnancy related disorder called preeclampsia that can be serious if left untreated. katherine told me that they had to run a blood test to hopefully rule it out, it'd take an hour, and I could sit tight for a bit. now of course I didn't wanna end up having any disorder, but I was thankful I wouldn't have to go home right away...I hoped that by the time my test results came back they'd realize I needed to just stay. at this point, I told gen she could go ahead home and I'd call her in the morning to update her.

the next hour was wack. because I wasn't admitted yet I didn't get any pain medication. and I had to keep going to the bathroom. I was getting contractions so frequently there was no way to time it so I wasn't having them while in the bathroom...but I did learn that leaning over the sink made them a bit easier to take then sitting down. I'd begun steadily losing the rest of my mucus plug; I'd lost some of it the morning before which is how I'd known I'd be in labor within a day or two and was probably what kicked off my cleaning spree. it was also further proof, in my own head, that I shouldn't leave...if it was still dislodging I must be dialating at least a bit more, no? regardless, an hour later, a nurse named melissa who'd been very sweet and attentive to me during my wait, told me I could get dressed and head home; the preeclampsia test had come back negative and there was no reason for me to stay any longer. christopher hugged me as I cried; I was so distraught, yo...I'd always trusted in my instincts and what my body was telling me and if this horrible shit wasn't "real" I wasn't sure I could take "real" labor at all...plus I felt like some of the doctors was sonning me...one of them even said "oh I could tell you weren't in real labor as soon as I saw you". as I was pulling my sweatpants back on, however, I felt a big warm gush as my water broke. I called melissa and showed her my um...puddle and her eyes got wide. "well you're not goin anywhere now!" she said with a grin and even though I knew it'd get worse from this point on, I was happy! the joy was short-lived, however, as resident dr. "I could tell you weren't in labor with my stankin ass" peeped the color of my amniotic fluid and realized that there was meconium in it - which basically means beans had become distressed and had her first bowel movement inside. its not a good sign, especially considering the mucus I'd seen saturday was the same color...which meant she'd been in there in those conditions for 36 hours or more already. back into the hospital gown I went as they prepared to examine me again to confirm that my water had indeed broke...although it was pretty obvious to me that it had. resident dr. whatever tried to walk troy through inserting some scary looking shit in me but I fucking went apeshit as he did it definitely wrong - I thought christopher was going to body slam him. I decided I hated troy. no matter, another doctor did it and duh, yea, my water had officially broke and I was FINALLY admitted into the hospital and taken to my own private labor/delivery room. 12:45am.

stage one, phase two: 12:45am - around 2:00pm april 11th

now I don't wanna send the wrong message here about how much I generally respect doctors and nurses...besides barking at troy I was very polite and respectful to all of them, even the ones who tried to send me home. as hard as it is to smile and be nice while you're hurting so intensely, I still did so cause I was raised that way. and two of them in particular are really a huge part of why my daughter is healthy today - katherine and melissa, the resident and nurse who'd been looking over me in the pre-admittance room, will play a major part in the rest of this story. it was just mad frustrating to imagine myself going all the way back to the bronx to suffer an entire night with that kind of intense torment. once we were situated in our room those two women really went out of their way to make me as comfortable, for lack of a more accurate word, as possible...I had plenty of blankets and pillows and ice chips. see, you can't eat once you're in labor, not that I had any urge to at all whatsoever, so they give you ice chips to eat to distract you from hunger and keep you hydrated. as much as I'd thought before that wasn't gonna do the trick, I fell in love with ice chips that night. because of the meconium issue, and my strangely skyrocketing blood pressure, I had to be hooked up to a fetal monitor, blood pressure machine, and IV almost immediately. I'd wanted to try walking the halls to expediate labor like I'd seen on "baby story" but that wasn't going to be possible. no matter...dealing with waves of contractions for hours and hours on end became a surreal experience...your mind starts to process shit differently when you know that every few minutes you insides will be contorted in a really sharp, intense, throbbing, cramping pain. if you have bad menstrual cramps as I do you know a little of the nauseating agony I was going through...contractions are exactly like cramps only so much more wack then any cramps you've probably ever experienced. I dealt with each one differently...for a time the lamaze breathing and focusing seriously helped...when christopher saw the peak coming on the print-out that was measuring my contractions he'd remind me to breathe through it. but after awhile that shit wasn't enough; I literally became afraid of how much I knew it would hurt again when I felt a contraction coming, and I have never felt that kind of uneasy fear in my life. I didn't want topher to see me crying so I tried to play it off and be strong and begged him to lay down and try and sleep awhile on the recliner...he felt so guilty about being tired I had to practically order him to rest up. I told him I'd need him at 100% later and he couldn't be so without taking a nap. he finally warily agreed, but he didn't sleep hard...he'd periodically wake up as a contraction started and talk me through it before he drifted off to sleep again. maybe around 4am the contractions noticeably began to intensify into back labor, so I enquired about an epidural. I was examined by some doctor and then warned about the risks of administering one too early in the game (I guess at this point I was still only around 3 - 4 cm dialated) so I decided against it for the moment. katherine couldn't have been more of a comfort by then...when I'd gone to the bathroom with my IV bag I'd forgotten to keep it above my hand so it'd backed up and 4 different doctors had to be called to find a new vein (mine run and hide...such tricksters)...theres nothing like getting needles in five different places on each hand while you're having a labor contraction. katherine finally got one minutes before I reached hysteria, then dimmed the lights, which made it automatically seem cooler - a big relief - and sat down next to my bed and held my hand. when she saw a contraction coming she'd talk in a soft but firm voice...I don't even recall all that she said past telling me when it was almost over but I do know it was almost hypnotic and I could've really made out with her between contractions I loved her so much for it. that became my new method of coping, simply reminding myself, at the peak, that the contraction was almost over...for awhile it made the pain bearable enough that katherine could help me take my nipple piercings out. once that no longer worked, a bit after melissa relieved katherine so she could go tend to other patients, melissa unhooked me from all my wires except my IV and I went to the bathroom to try leaning over the sink as I'd done in the pre-admittance room. I caught a glance of myself in the mirror and it wasn't nothin cute - dark circles around my eyes for days. I was getting really tired...leaning over the sink wasn't doing the trick, but leaning over the bathtub did for awhile. I wished I could get in, but melissa told me they really had to keep me monitored so it was a no-go unfortunately.

after agonizing about an epidural another couple hours, crying again in frustration and exhaustion, melissa assured me and christopher that my getting one now or later wouldn't add to or subtract from the chance of a cesarean as I'd previously been told. so finally, at 7am, nearly 14 hours since I'd first started having contractions, the anesthesiologist was called to administer a sweet sweet epidural. I wish I could recall who told me it wouldn't hurt...lies. a needle being inserted into your spine don't tickle. I had to curve my back "over" my big hard belly and rest my forehead on christopher's chest while the anesthesiologist did his work...it was hard to stay still in that position, particularly through a contraction...and by now I was shaking with what I'll simply deem "pain tremors". at one point the doctor warned me I'd feel a bit of electricity in my back and legs and immediately following an "oops" my left leg jumped five inches off the bed. "sorry about that!" he said. at this point I'll remind you that two words you never want to hear a doctor say are "oops!" and "sorry!" at long last he said he was done and this time, immediately following an inquiry about whether I felt it yet, my legs began tingling and getting delightfully warm. I said yes and asked how long it'd take to block out the contractions...the doctor said it worked instantly and did it ever! I actually smiled I was so happyyyyy! I turned on the today show, giggled with glee at the absence of torment, and promptly, heavily, peacefully fell deeply asleep until ellen came on at 10am. my real obgyn had finally shown up around that time as well, so I was mad relieved to see her, even if all she did was come in, take a look at all my charts and print-outs and screen blips and ask me how I was. at that point my legs were pretty useless...I could feel them but they were nearly numb and might as well have had star jones and kirstie alley laying across them. topher had finally truly gone to sleep so I didn't dare bother him...I just chilled for awhile, enjoying the feeling of beans moving around inside, realizing this was the last day we'd ever be one...something I'd hardly felt when I was still experiencing contraction hell. katherine came back one last time to check up on me; pleased to see I was resting comfortably. I hope she could see the adoration in my eyes because I didn't see her again that day, and only once more my entire hospital stay, but she really did help me get through the very worst pain of my life. I went to sleep again...when I woke up I had to pee. a problem considering I couldn't walk. I waited in vain for melissa to come back but she was on an extended break, so I had to ask another nurse, a pleasant little asian woman, if she could hook me up with a catheter - something I can honestly say I never thought I'd ask someone to hook me up with. it wasn't bad; not at all humiliating, my embarassment about any bodily functions had pretty much dissipated during the night...however, even though the urge to pee was strong, I couldn't do so for another couple of hours. my body knew I wasn't sitting on the toilet. it knew I was laying down. my bladder wouldn't releaese...I tried everything from meditating to visualization - as if I was trying to trick my mind into thinking I'd limped into the bathroom, but it wasn't having none of that...I've been so disciplined into peeing in a toilet (or the shower...fuck it) it was agony not to be able to go, but eventually I suppose I did cause it felt better and the catheter tube had clearly been utilized. don't give me any tmi warnings either. this is a birth story. its messy, soldier. I feel no qualms about spending the last 203 words on urine.

stage one, phase three: around 2:00pm - 5:00pm april 11th

around 2pm I make the aquaintance of the lovely dr. francis, dr. paka's partner - a gorgeous, petite, 30-something black woman. christopher was up and about again watching tv with me...I told him he should go get something of sustenance to eat cause granola bars weren't gonna cut it all day long. he didn't wanna leave me, said he wasn't even that hungry, but I kept insisting. he mentioned that both his mother and my father had advised him he should probably go back to our apartment, catch a short nap, shower, and change clothes and I told him I wouldn't mind in the least if he wanted to do that...especially considering I was still only about 5 cm dialated. I also began to lightweight feel my contractions again as the epidural had ran its course by that time...they were extremely bearable, my legs still halfway useless, but I was still intimidated about the possibility that the contractions may come back full force before it was time to push. I asked my cute little asian nurse if it was possible to get something to take the edge off and she sent the anesthesiologist in again to give me a little sumthin sumthin. not sure what it was, but it did dull it out...contractions didn't disappear entirely like they had with the epidural but now that I'd gotten some rest I felt equipped to deal with at least a minimal amount of pain again.

stage two: 5:00pm - 8:14pm april 11th

three hours later I was still at least marginally okay besides developing an uncontrollable constrant shiver...still eating ice like it was beluga caviar...felt like a slightly more intense version of my normal menstrual cramps, although with crazy pressure starting to build. christopher had finally agreed to go home to at least shower and change, but before he did so it was time to check my dilatation one more time...dr. francis did the honors and I was already at 9 to my surprise...so not too much longer to go before it was time to push; we were so relieved. christopher obviously wasn't going anywhere at this point. dr. francis told me to let the nurse know when I couldn't breathe through the contractions anymore; when the urge to push was too strong to resist. the first 45 minutes neared the agonizing again as far as the contractions went, but after that it was only an urge to push...a very strong, very intense constant sort of pressure, like I was about to be parted at the very seams. it hurt a bit, but by this time I was so ready to see my daughter I didn't even care...this was the downward stretch and I knew it, I was excited. melissa had finally returned so I had my whole team ready to go; I didn't even care that dr. francis would be delivering my baby in lieu of dr. paka...she'd been there more for me this day then my own obgyn. anyway, I held out as long as I could with the pressure, but by half past six it was definitely time to start pushing...it was like my very bones were starting to be eased out of the way. it didn't feel great but I was almost done so felt this big ass surge of energy...very superwoman type shit. I told melissa to get dr. francis; that I was ready to go...everyone suited up, the botton half of my bed was detached, I scooted to the edge...and turned the tv off. seemed too casual to have it on I guess.

I can honestly say that childbirth class with harriet had prepared christopher and I for a lot of things...we definitely weren't ignorant about anything that we'd been told over the past 24 or so hours. we'd done our homework in everyway imaginable; I'd devoured everything I'd been given to read - even the lamaze breathing techniques had worked better then I'd anticipated. but NOBODY can tell a woman who's never done it before exactly how to push. it seems like it'd be cake, right; they tell you its like pushing out a bowel movement...but its not quite that simple. it doesn't exactly come natural, although the urge to push itself is...put it this way, you know all the metaphors about pushing a cantaloupe out a hole the size of a walnut? pretty much feels like that. it doesn't just give, whatever "it" is; theres a lot of resistance you have to push through, and I didn't feel like I was very good at it, even when topher told me he could see beans' head and she had TONS of hair. the pushing actually started to make me very lightheaded and nauseous; I kept dry heaving and had to get oxygen...and at one point I got paranoid and upset cause I felt like I was letting dr. francis down...I'd picked up some exasperation on her face about an hour into pushing that I interpreted as frustration with me for not just pushing beans out quick and fast like I'd seen on tv. it almost made me feel worse knowing beans' head was right there; that everybody could see it, that we were that close and I couldn't get her any farther. I wiped away tears I didn't want anybody to see and kept pushing everytime I felt a contraction coming...relishing when dr. francis and melissa told me my push was great and trying not to mentally berate myself when they told me to do it harder. my legs felt so heavy at this point, too, like lead...it would've been a little embarassing to have to ask christopher and melissa to help me hold them up if all my modesty hadn't gone the way of el buffalo. I do feel like, in the long run, it slowed down the process greatly though. it made it hard to focus my pushing where it needed to be cause I was pushing down on the stirrups with the balls of my feet...can't push two places at once...which I kept getting reminded. I actually requested the stirrups cause I wasn't comfortable having them hold up my legs. it was almost distracting...and I had to finally ask everyone but dr. francis to hush so I could concentrate on one thing at a time...I was sick of being told multiple shit and even more sick of feeling like dr. francis was disappointed in or tired of me not "doing it right". in retrospect I know she was just concerned about serena...and I appreciate her straight forward approach...I would've sensed it if she bullshitted me. I wouldn't have wanted my feelings coddled at the expense of the baby...I needed to know time was of the essence.

after over an hour of pushing dr. francis said she'd let me try alone a few more times as beans' heartbeat was still very strong and steady, but she didn't want me to be crowning for too much longer. plus, my body temperature was getting too hot; I had a bit of a fever and my blood pressure was beginning to climb again. I was afraid she was going to make me have an emergency c-section...so for the next half an hour, with the doctor's permission, I pushed even when I wasn't having contractions; I was getting scared for my baby and all I could think about was getting her out and into the waiting pediatrician's arms. finally dr. francis said although I was pushing just fine, and only because of my fever, she was going to help a bit and perform an episiotomy - a term that had freaked me out before but no longer. after that everything happened rapidly; I felt beans' head finally come out and everyone start to crowd around to turn her head and suction her mouth. I looked up at christopher and he was so excited in his calm christopher way...he'd said throughout my entire pregnancy that he was going to look but he was looking for sure, fascinated nearly. "keep you eyes open on this next push," melissa said, "and you'll see your baby being born". sure enough, with the next contraction I felt the rest of her body being pushed out and dr. francis lifted my babygirl into the air and noted the time - 8:14pm. I could see that she did infact have a ton of hair and I quickly observed her ten fingers and toes, but that was about all I had time to observe because she had to be turned over to the pediatrician right away. because of the meconium issue and my long labor, my fever, and blood pressure christopher didn't even get to cut her chord...they had to get her breathing better right away. I was so tired and relieved I started sobbing...christopher kissed me, dr. francis and melissa congratulated me...but my elation was short lived because there were so many doctors hovering over my child; all I could see was her little leg and it wasn't moving. dr. francis had told me earlier they wouldn't have her cry right away; precautions had to be taken in that regard so she didn't inhale any meconium, so I tried not to panic when I didn't hear anything from her...I just wanted to see her MOVE. nothing in life has frightened me so much as the short moments directly following her birth...I learned later from melissa that even though her heartbeat remained uncharacteristically strong throughout my entire labor they had to literally resuscitate her right after birth. but she improved very quickly and by the time they laid her in my arms her eyes were wide open and she was extremely alert. I just stared at her for a minute...our eyes seemed to lock...and then I said hi to her. it was surreal, yo...I couldn't process that this was the entity that'd been kicking me for months, the little girl I'd been dreaming about, that'd been keeping me company when I felt the most alone. I was so relieved...and she was so cute with those brilliant eyes and my button nose and chubby cheeks...christopher's chin and forehead. she was so alert and tiny and so beautiful...so beautiful. I will never forget that moment as long as I live! my baby!

unfortunately we didn't get to bond for very long before they had to take her to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) to start her on an IV and monitor her. topher didn't get to hold her but he was okay...already dialing his mom's number on his cell.

stage three: 8:25pm?

placentas are gross. I saw mine in the reflection of the television as my last contraction pushed it out. gross. and messy.

while dr. francis stiched up my chocha she remarked "you must still be really numb, you can't even feel this". I replied "actually, I can feel every second of it". I just didn't care. I was still thinking about my beans and how beautiful her eyes were and how she was much more of a redbone then I anticipated and how much curly black hair she had and how excited I was to call my parents and how long would it be before we could see her? stiches weren't shit at this point.

after the nurses cleaned me up and changed my bedsheets topher and I didn't have much time to reflect. I hadn't eaten in well over 24 hours and I was finally in the mood for something a bit more filling then ice chips. just before he walked out the door to procure us some boston market genevieve returned. I told her she'd just missed beans' birth but if she wanted to stick around while we expeditiously devoured some well earned chicken and macaroni and cheese she could go to the NICU with us to see her. while I was awaiting christopher's return I called my parents...my mom first, then my dad, then my brother...they had all been waiting over a day so there was such a release of tension, such a joy. especially with my father...he'd seen my mother lose two babies, one before I was born, one after, so he was very nervous...the first thing I said when he answered the phone was "hey grandpa!" he paused and said "sarah?" I replied "yes daddy, my daughter is here and she's perfect"...he started to cry, which made me cry again...I described her to him, including mentioning that she had his slanted eyes and her namesake, his mother's, trademark nose just like me. and after that expense of emotion, boston market tasted so fucking good...like a feast after a very long battle...I was sore, bruised, bleeding, beaten from the inside out, but I didn't even feel it. all I wanted to do was finish replenishing myself so I could go hold my babygirl. we tore through the food as fast as we could; the three of us were being booted from the room anyway so they could move me to a permanent one. because my legs were still sore and teeteringly numb melissa insisted on a wheelchair...so off we went, christopher and gen lugging our overnight bags, and me pulling my IV along my wheelchair. once we got to my room a nurse helped me clean up a bit more, supplied me with witch hazel for my stiches and pads for the bleeding, and some stylish mesh granny panties.

I wasn't fully prepared for what exactly the NICU was...I guess I hadn't thought about it. once we walked in - and I did insist on walking, wheeling my IV next to me, much to christopher's chagrin - we had to scrub our hands in a big sink with iodine soap, then we had to wear special lemon yellow hospital gowns to fully sterilize ourselves. there were very sick babies in this section of the hospital; some of them premies as young as 24 weeks old...so tiny. all the babies were in incubators regardless of their condition...all hooked up to various chords, including beans. but the nurses in there were very kind and helpful, they let us hold her and play with her as long as we were careful. she had an IV in her hand just like I did. she was still a bit pale, and her head was bruised and a bit elogated from her trip through the birth canal (this is normal) but she was just so lovely...she'd already discovered her hands and fingernails, so they had little mittens on her hands so she wouldn't scratch herself. and even though I kept getting assured she was okay, that these were just precautions, that their NICU was the best in the city, I still hated to see that IV in my daughter's hand; it was so tiny just like her...I hated that she was in an incubator. I hated that we didn't have time to spend with each other right after she was born - I couldn't even start breastfeeding her right away cause they wanted to make sure her digestive system was alright...it was hard to take, but I knew it was necessary and I appreciated everything that'd been done to get her right so quickly. gen held her for a few minutes, told her she was aunt genevieve, then left for home so we could be alone with her. I have said this shit before but never meant it with the depth of seriousness I mean it now: I don't know what I would do it I didn't have christopher. he was the only thing keeping me from flipping out. maybe thats why I cried so hard when he had to leave after we'd spent about an hour with beans and then I'd gotten situated in my room. I didn't want him to go, I know he didn't either...I wanted him to lay next to me in that hospital bed and hold me...but it was past visitor's hours and they just don't allow the fathers to stay all night after the birth. although we as parents had 24 hours access to the NICU, he didn't have 24 hour access to me, and my room couldn't have been more then 30 feet from the NICU's entrance. it was a lonely night for me...I hurt too badly to sleep, plus nurses came in every hour to take my blood pressure and temperature. the pain medication they were giving me didn't seem to work very well; then again maybe it did and I would've been twice as sore without it...no matter, I went to visit beans countless times...even in that first night the sterilization procedure I had to go through for the NICU became second nature. I even watched her sleep.

during the next three nights I became familiar with walking around the corner to the NICU door in the middle of the night...scrubbing my hands, donning the yellow gown, and saying hi to all the nurses in room #1 as I walked toward my daughter's incubator to lift her out and hold her and play with her. our favorite activity was looking at each other, I think...I felt like I could melt into her pretty eyes. I talked to her a lot during those 2, 3am visits, talked until my throat got hoarse and she started to fall asleep in my arms...it was those nights that beans kept me strong...how could I fall apart when she needed me? sure I didn't want our lives together to start this way, but we were both alive and in good care from caring, capable people. I'd had three different roommates during my stay, and unfortunately one of them had lost their baby; a premie born at only 23 weeks old. just listening to that young mom cry for her lost child was enough to make me feel incredibly thankful that mine was alive and safe. every morning christopher would come back and we'd spend all day splitting my hospital meals (they actually weren't too bad, eff what ya heard), procuring more boston market, watching tv (I even had cable), naps, and of course spending time with beans. the second day we received all the paperwork for her birth certificate and social security - we named our daughter serena lucille. lucille was my grandma's name just like sarah was my great-grandmother's name. we still call her beans most of the time, though, along with babygirl, pumpkin pie, redbone, peaches, muffin, serena beans, so on so forth. everyone else has taken to calling her lucy. who knows what she's gonna think her name is.

serena had to spend one additional day in the NICU after I was released. by then she was no longer on an IV or in an incubator, and she'd been moved to room #3, called the "step-down" room for babies who are about to go home. after I was officially discharged we decided to get something to eat outside of the hospital...it was the first time I'd left those confines in four days. I didn't realize how hard it would be for me to walk...or sit down. I didn't even have much of an appetite; I didn't want to leave my baby overnight. I had never been away from her...I was still getting used to not feeling her in my belly. I tried not to cry but it was hopeless, especially since serena was awake when we had to go. for some reason I felt like she'd be upset with me if she didn't see me visiting that night; that she'd think we'd left her. one of the nurses, heather, assured me that I could call fifty times if I needed to, just to ask how she was, and I appreciated that...but it wouldn't be the same. I couldn't understand how christopher had left us every night without breaking down...then again, he's a dude, and a lot more outwardly tough then I am...he told me to concentrate on tomorrow, when we'd finally be able to take her home forever. so thats what I did. I still called heather a few times during the night...still couldn't sleep very restfully...my own bed felt alien to me after being in the hospital so long. I was alright, though...my mom was arriving the next morning to help out. moreso, I was a mom. I felt that night, and still feel now, weeks later, that I have to be strong for serena...it feels so selfless after a lifetime of selfishness and I am grateful to the most high for her very existance. we're going to have a great life together.