welcome little one

I stood in the center of our little living room- more a den, really- contemplating rearrangement options. It was about midnight and right then seemed a good time for moving furniture. Thankfully, before I started taking books off shelves, it hit me: I'm in labor. I recalled our birth class instructor two years ago warning that if mom starts frantically cleaning at an odd time (midnight, perhaps?) it may just be a sign that labor is approaching. Something internally has switched and, before you're even registering contractions, your psyche knows "if we're going to get anything else done before this baby arrives, now is the time!"

Just as I did with Alice, I had been having contractions for about two weeks. My body really likes to practice. The midwives kept saying they would see me soon, warning that once the baby decided to debut, it would do so quickly. Thank goodness for the heads up...

Come 1:30AM, I started timing my contractions. They were beginning their shift from practicing to progressing, starting to get distractingly painful. Just hours earlier I'd told Jake how odd it was to be aching for the pain of labor. I was tired of the measly practice contractions and found myself looking down at my massive middle saying aloud, "come on baby! these need to hurt more to get us anywhere!" It is like begging to be hit by a truck. And this labor could be nearly compared to the speed with which a car accident takes place. Within fifteen minutes I woke up Jake. By 2:30AM, on all fours at the base of our stairs, I barely managed to text my sister "Go time." By 2:45AM I was keeping an important bit of information to myself while we waited for Alice's babysitter to arrive: I was already feeling the need to push.

Jake didn't understand why I was frustrated that he was taking the time to brush his teeth. WE NEED TO GO NOW. As soon as our babysitter arrived- on her own birthday, coincidentally!- I waddled myself out to the car and climbed in with my knees on the floor, facing the seat back. The cool of the leather felt so good on my forehead. Jake finished brushing his teeth and even ran back in the house to grab his gum- he really had no idea I was on the brink of having a baby in our driveway. Looking back, we agree that maybe that would have been useful information to have shared.

We arrived at the birth center at 3AM. Our midwife and my sister drove in right behind us. The director of the birth center met us in the parking lot and ushered us into the same room where we labored with Alice. I immediately took off my pants and climbed onto the bed, on all fours. She checked me and our midwife and my sister appeared in the doorway as I asked if I could push and got the go ahead. I wish I could have seen the look on Jake's face! I could practically hear it in his "what!?!" He'd thought we had hours to go.

First push and the baby crowned. Second push and the head was out. Third push- out came the shoulders. Forth- the torso. One more push, and our baby was born, nine minutes after we'd arrived, weighing in at 9 pounds, 4 ounces and 22 inches long.

We'd been debating between the names Clara and Margot. After barreling out of my body, in her first hour with us, our little girl pooped and peed on me,  nursed, burped and nursed some more. It seemed her name was not the lolling, lovely 'Clara." She wanted GO in her title: MarGOt.

And here we are, one week into our lives with Margot Leigh. Our beautiful child of light.

There is much more I could share- things that feel even bigger than how she arrived: Margot's first introduction to Alice is chief among them. I believe that may have been more staggering a moment for me than her birth. For now, suffice it to say that Margot's birth was a dream and Alice has made me the most proud mother in all the world. I love my girls. My girls.