Thirty seven years ago I was in the maternity ward of Pomona Valley Hospital. My ex and I were ready for our baby. We were post-Lamaze trained; he was ready to coach, I was ready to push. We were three weeks post-due date when labor began. Mid-labor all of the training became unnecessary. We were told that our baby was to be born via Cesarean section.
To tell the truth, I welcomed the idea. I’d been on pitocin and it had been administered at a fairly high dose. I didn’t need to think twice about having nonproductive contractions continue.
Within the space of an hour our daughter Kate was born. I have a vague memory of this sweet cross-eyed baby being shown to me. My ex was the first person in our family to really see her. I remember her smiling in the hospital and my being surprised by her dimples. There are those who doubt she could have smiled at that age, but she was three weeks “late” and a lot of baby stepping stones were reached about three weeks early.
As a child she was cute as a button and was just a healthy bit of a stinker – at times. As a teen…well, think back to your own teen – aged years. I know when I think back to mine, I want to have some minimum of memories.
Over the years I have seen her grow into a young woman who is a social worker and then a young mother who is kind, loving, and oh, so patient.
We spoke this morning and I could hear the smile in her voice. Made me smile, too.