“Birth”day takes on new meaning when you’re the one birthing

IMG_20150103_172451138To begin with, I haven’t given birth to a baby for over thirty years.  That, in itself, is worthy of thanksgiving.  (And beyond that, if you are a man somewhat faint-of-heart, you might consider going to the next post on your reader…)

Not that I would trade any of it—that miracle of another human being growing within me and then passing through me into the world, and, as my husband’s mother mused when our first was born, someone who is “50% mom, 50% dad, and 100% herself”, well, that’s just unspeakably cool. 

Back in the early ‘80s, they were going with these new things called “birthing rooms”: comfortable bed in a wallpapered, home-like atmosphere, etc.  I got to use one when our first made her global debut.  For all the “coaching” classes we had, poor Bob was ultimately relegated to silence and the important task of providing me with ice chips. 

For our second, however, the birthing room was not available, and so I was taken into the old standard: an operating room atmosphere with Continue reading ““Birth”day takes on new meaning when you’re the one birthing”