My due date was January 2, 2005, but Annabelle, just four and a half, kept saying, “I think our baby will be here for Christmas!” “Maybe!” I’d say, but secretly I’d ask him to please stay in until after the rush of the holidays.
I woke up early the morning of December 20, 2004, and while I was starting my day I noticed I was having quite a few mild contractions. Not at all painful, they felt like regular ol’ Braxton Hicks contractions that are so familiar the last couple of months of pregnancy. But over the next couple of hours I noticed they were happening quite frequently, if erratically: 7 minutes, 10 minutes, 5 minutes… hm. I wasn’t in pain, but with the first snow of the year falling outside the window, I thought it best to call the midwife.
My wonderful midwife Heather arrived and checked me, but the contractions being so mild and irregular, we couldn’t really tell if I was really in labor. But with the winter weather howling outside the window, we decided to just wait and see. My mother and sister arrived, to hang out with Annabelle and Theo, just in case this was the real deal. By late afternoon, with water broken, it seemed like something was happening, but still, so mild. Tom came home from work, and I was puttering around the house, making dinner for the kids, feeling pretty good! Suddenly, at 7:30pm I was hit with a contraction that made me break a sweat! My sister, who labored with me for Theo’s birth, knew right away… “Do you want to go upstairs?” she said. Labor was fast and furious from there, the contractions coming so quickly, one on top of the other. My sister held my hands, Tom rubbed my back, Annabelle sat next to me and put a hand on my head now and then, talking to me, looking at the baby’s tiny outfit, ready to put on him when he came out. I felt safe and supported, surrounded by Heather and her assistant, Kim, my children and family, in my own bed in my own home.
Just a little over an hour after my first real contraction, the urge to push was there. I tried to fight it, as it seemed like it was happening too, too fast. But my body took over, and less than 10 minutes later, Harry was on my chest, bright pink with red lips and long fingers. He cried with vigor, and Annabelle began to sing “All the Pretty Horses”, the song she sang to my belly every night. He stopped crying, and looked right at her… a sight so sweet it brought tears to my eyes.
Happy Birthday, Harry Boy… I love you.
