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The Birth Story

The weekend we were on edge.  We scurried around to get all the details ready.  Re-washed some clothes.  Made up the crib.  Cleaned our room.  Packed the hospital bag.  Re-packed the hospital bag.  Made arrangements for our dog. Charged our camera batteries.  And jumped every time the phone rang.  We didn’t get a phone call.

On Monday morning, we knew she would be induced.  She had a doctor’s appointment first, but we headed to the hospital.  We received a text late morning from our agency saying she would be checking in at noon.  We ate some lunch and tried to relax and rest.

We met her as soon as she walked in.  I remember the confidence she had as she entered the hospital and her beautiful hair and smile.  She was by herself.  She got all checked in and helped us sign in correctly.  She was able to skip triage since she had been to the doctor’s first.  An hour or two later she was all settled into a room and trying to occupy her time.  Her previous birth had gone very quickly so we were all waiting for the first signs.  A social worker from our agency arrived at some point and we all just chatted, including about some names for him.  We had narrowed down to two first names when we had met her the previous week.  We let her know we had decided on a first name, but were still unsure of a middle.

HOURS went by with no progression.  She was growing anxious and hungry.  Her doctor had not arrived and she called the office to make sure he came to see her.  Hours went by.  Again.  She had received an epidural and I was able to stay in the room with her.  We gave her privacy when she wanted it and when she offered, we stayed.  She was a champ.

Once her doctor arrived, she still had not progressed much.  He broke her water and moved things along.  It wasn’t long after and she was pushing.  The hospital staff was awesome and Mike and I were both present, along with our social worker.  I stood by her side holding her leg, until I got lightheaded and needed to sit down.  Her doctor ordered me to a chair and I was overwhelmed by emotion.  I prayed.  I was encouraging her as much as I could and I watched.  I think everything had finally caught up to that moment.  Lack of sleep, little food, emotion, and anxiety.  Once he arrived my eyes filled with tears of thankfulness and joy.  The doctor laid him on her chest and called me over to cut the cord.  It was amazing!  The experience, not the cord.  The cord is weird.  It’s spongey yet hard.  I don’t even know how to explain that, but it’s not what I expected.

He quickly raised his head full of hair and I saw his big feet.  She was beautiful and glowing.  Exhausted, but joyful.  He was beautiful.  Content.  Perfect.

She offered him to me and I held him in awe.  The years of infertility and paperwork had all washed away for a brief moment.

Mike went to get her food and I stayed with the two of them.  We ate dinner when Mike returned and I headed home to get some rest while Mike stayed and helped get her settled in recovery.  We slept in our bed that night, knowing sleep was probably going to be rare the next few days/weeks, but also to give her as much or as little time as she wanted with him.  This is also pretty typical as paperwork and parental rights have to be signed.  It’s a little more comfortable to do without the adoptive parents present.  So we waited until our social worker gave us the green light to return the next day.

Baby boy was here.  His name was Joseph.

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