A year ago today, I was lying in bed at a hospital in Dallas. I had monitors strapped around my belly for contractions and Liam's heart rate. Just waiting. Barely sleeping.
I used to remember everything: what time my water broke, when I got the pitocin, when I got the epidural, when I slept, what everything felt like. I don't remember the specifics any more. In brief, I went into labor on my own in the afternoon but was induced later that evening after Liam showed signs of stress during contractions. I lay in bed half hoping that it wouldn't end in a c-section, but secretly fearing the whole, you know, vaginal delivery thing, and thinking a c-section might not be so bad.
I got winks of sleep. The nurses told me I was strong for how calm I remained during the contractions, both before and after the epidural. "You must have a high tolerance for pain," they said. I thought, you have no idea how much I am screaming on the inside.
I wanted Gabe to lay in bed with me, but it wasn't big enough. I wanted to drink gallons of water but was not allowed. I wanted to punch the anesthesiologist in the face. These things I remember well.
I was scared. I was calm. I was excited to hold my baby.
I spent the night trying to get comfortable and sleepily praying. Gabe and I tried to talk but found ourselves unable to really have a conversation.
It wasn't until 9:22 a.m. on June 6 that I finally saw Liam.
I had the most amazing nurse for the delivery and am so thankful she happened to be on shift. She was perfect. And I am so glad my doctor was there too. Also perfect.
The delivery wasn't perfect. I pushed for an hour, and could do it no longer. I didn't feel that I should, I felt something was wrong and he needed to be out, NOW. I was right. I was pushing him out against the cord around his neck. I asked for the vacuum, and out he came, with a push and a cry. The doctor cut him free and held him up. I clumsily took him in my arms and cried, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" repeatedly because I was so glad it was over and I was in such awe of this tiny, pale little body.
They cleaned him up as Gabe and I held each other and cried. As my doctor stitched me up I kept asking if Liam was ok. He was; he just needed a little oxygen, then he was bundled and put back in my arms. His color was right now, and his eyes were all squinched. He squeaked and blinked and I couldn't stop smelling him and kissing him and telling him how much I love him.
So- 9:22 a.m. on June 6, 2007, Liam Mercury arrived in Dallas. He weighed seven and a half pounds and was 20 1/4 inches long. He was AMAZING and continues to be amazing.
I can't believe I am now the mother of a one-year-old and that we've made it through this year already. Where has that time gone, and when did my itty-bitty baby turn into a tall, sturdy toddler who's on the verge of walking and talking?
He's really something. Gabe and I are so lucky.
Liam, know this: we are so glad you are here. It's been a quick but wonderful year and we love your sense of humor, your curiosity and intelligence, and your touch and smile. We love your soft hair and yummy skin. We love YOU.
Happy birthday, my bumblebee, my angelface, my baby bear. My Liam. Gosh, you are so lovely.