How dare she think this entire situation is any laughing matter? I’m scared to death. Feeling like I’m going to explode at any minute if I have to endure this pain too muchlonger.
My head rests on Connor’s shoulder and I focus on my breath, talking myself into not giving up, not begging for an epidural, and trying to envision what my daughter will looklike.
I close my eyes for a brief moment and a sudden intense pressure builds down low, causing a completely different pain than what I’ve felt before. My hands fly to the edge of the tub, desperately grasping for anything that will keep megrounded.
“I think I know,” Iyell.
“It’s okay, calm down, breathe,” the midwife says, wiping a washcloth across myforehead.
“No,” I scream. “I know when it’s time, and it’s now.Look.”
A tiny head is making its presenceknown.
“Holy cow!” she yells out. “Don’tpush.”
“I’m not! She’s coming though.” I grip the edge of the tub hard until the feeling subsides, and I can take a deepbreath.
“Holy shit!” Connor yells, making melaugh.
“Mackenzie,” the midwife says. “Give me your hand. Here, feel yourbaby.”
I move my hand under the water and touch the crown of my daughter’shead.
My eyes go wide in shock as Connor laughs at myreaction.
“Wait for the next contraction. Let your body do the work and relax in these moments of rest. She’ll be heresoon.”
“Can I feel?” Connorasks.
“Of course,” the midwiferesponds.
He reaches down into the water, lightly brushing the head of his baby girl. When he looks my direction, his lips crash into mine, kissing me until I have to break away with the same urge rushing through meagain.
“Good job, Dad. The surge of hormones normally does the trick,” she teases as I grip the edge again, welcoming Mia Mackenzie Hayden into theworld.
I feel the final pop of release and my head falls back, a feeling of total exhaustion and utter relief sweeping throughme.
I didit.
The midwife works quickly and within seconds, I feel the warmth of a tiny body on my chest and the soft cries of a baby filling theroom.
“Kenzie,” Connor wraps his arms around both his girls. “You did it. Look at her,baby.”
“Congratulations, Mom and Dad. She was born at 7:14a.m.”
I lift my head, glancing at the beautiful angel that just came out of me. The pain is still very real, but my heart is filling with love. Connor kisses Mia’sforehead.
“Did you say 7:14?” Connorasks.
“That’s correct,” the midwife responds over hershoulder.
“Baby, did you hear that? She was born on your birthday and at 7:14.”
I look up when what he’s saying sinks in. “Your birthday,” I whisper through pain, tears and elation. Connor’s birthday is Julyfourteenth.
I drop my head back against the tub, saying a quick prayer and thanking God for my life and my miracle. Her birth proves even more that this was the purpose and meaning of my life, wrapped in a little bundle ofjoy.
Connor’s lips softly brush mine before he places a hand on our daughter’s back. Together, we share an embrace for the first time as afamily.
