The Fourth Birth: Part 1

‘Aren’t you in labor?’, my husband said with a sense of urgency. I looked up to him with confusion spread across my face. It was 2:30 a.m. I was sitting on our toilet bowl trying to see if the mucus had a tinge of red. It had been 10 minutes since I was awakened by a gush of water trickling between my legs. I was hesitant to give the go signal because even if it looked like labor, I wasn’t feeling any contractions. I decided to call my doula and recount the past half hour. She calmly said, ‘Your water just broke. If you aren’t feeling anything, lie down and rest first.’

I laid down; my husband paced the floor. I remember being in an emotional state of limbo, unsure of what I wanted to happen next. Five minutes later, a familiar sensation coursed through my body. Welcome back, old friend, I thought as my toes curled up in response to the feeling…

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The Third Birth: A Story of Humility

It was not an empowering birth, but it was a humbling one. It was 3:30 am and I was in denial – the ungodliest of hours to feel such gravity. The muscles were contracting on an interval; I was curling my toes every time they were doing so. It can’t be happening, it can’t be happening, I thought. I was still six weeks away from my due date. I didn’t want to tell my husband because I didn’t want it to be true. But when half an hour passed, I woke him and he sat up in shock and worry. I checked myself in the bathroom and the next sign of labor was there – bloody discharge…

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Third Time's The Charm

We will tell him this pregnancy was hard. I will describe to him the nights I laid wide awake, awash in worry and regret. The pandemic frightened me but the sight of two lines on a test tipped me over. I will speak of the moments his father and I fought, argued, and wished for what was not.

In a span of three years, we went from dreaming, hoping, and praying to holding our breaths and bracing ourselves for impact. Carrying an unplanned baby in the midst of a pandemic while juggling two young toddlers – that idea packs a punch. The conceived has become inconceivable…

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Going Home

Homeschooling. We’ve opted to go the crazy path and not sign up for any online classes. I have no plastic envelopes filled with lesson plans and worksheets. I stared in horror at the empty calendar my child was going to have this year. What in this lockdown-crazed earth are we going to do? One hard look at my child and the answer was right in front of me: follow him…

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