My First Baby

I didn't know what having a baby was like until I actually give birth to our first daughter, Linnea.  I did everything I could to get prepared; we picked out names, preregistered at the hospital,  packed my bag and had a baby shower, talked to lots of mothers, and dad even made me the most beautiful rocking baby bassinet, but when it came right down to it, I didn't know I was in labor until Linnea was almost born.  Months before she was due Sheldon and I enrolled in Lamaze classes where I learned how to relax and breath during delivery, but no matter how hard they tried to describe what labor was like, I still didn't recognize it. 

"Is there anything I can do to help the baby come sooner?" I asked my doctor when I went in for a check up on my due date.

"Sure," you can climb on your roof and jump off," he answered, his eyes twinkling. 

I gave him a shocked look, but he patted me on the arm and said, "Just let this baby come when it's ready.  It will be soon enough.  By the way, do you want me to tell you what this baby is going to be?"

"Can you do that?" I was surprised.  This was 34 years ago, before ultrasounds were part of routine doctor visits. 

"Sure," he answered merrily.  "I read an article about a doctor who was right 100% of the time.  You know how he did it?"

"No," I answered in wonder.

"Well, this doctor told the mother whatever he thought she was going to have, say a girl, and then he wrote down in his notes that he had told her it was going to be the opposite.  If she had a girl she was happy.  If she had a boy she'd come to him and tell him he was wrong, then he'd show her his notes and tell her she just didn’t remember right."

Ha, Ha.  That was about as good as the way my little sister Linda had heard you could find out the sex of your baby.  Someone held a pencil suspended on a string over the pregnant woman's belly.  If it turned clockwise it was a boy.  Counter clockwise it was a girl.  Or the other way people swore by was to fill a spoon with Draino and spit in it.  If it turned blue it was a boy, if it turned green it was a girl.  Yeah, right.

About 2:00 Sunday morning, a week after my baby was due, I woke up with a back ache.  It went away after a little while, but I had a hard time going back to sleep.  My back ached occasionally all morning as I got  ready for church, and I hoped that meant I was going to go into labor soon, but nothing else happened.  I was pretty uncomfortable during our meetings with my back aching on and off.  After church we had dinner at mom's, then went over to visit Sheldon's family to visit, but by about 8:00 I was feeling pretty icky, so we went home.  I got everything ready to go to the hospital, just in case, and by about 9:30 I began to notice my stomach tightening up every time my back hurt.  "Do you suppose this could be labor?" I asked Sheldon.

I'd had some little contractions once in awhile before, and got very excited only to have them stop, but this wasn't really like that.  This time I felt like my whole midsection was being  squeezed, along with my back aching.  The squeezing feeling got harder and harder, and closer and closer together, and I began hoping that maybe this was labor.  We called the doctor, and he said to come on down to the hospital  so he could check me out, so we called my mom and Sheldon's mom to let them know, then walked out to the car.  By the time I was sitting down in the car the contractions were getting painful, and I was glad I was on my way to the hospital.

It was about 10:15 when we got there.  The nurse didn't think I could really be in true labor, but when she checked me she changed her mind.  They quickly got me ready, and Linnea was born an hour later.  Everything went so fast I never even got to use the Lamaze techniques I had learned! 

I suppose I had been in labor all day, I just didn't recognize it for what it was.  Sheldon's mom was quite put out that I could have my first baby without being in the hospital for hours and hours, but it didn't bother me.   Linnea was the sweetest, most precious baby you ever saw, and I discovered something else.  You can't understand how wonderful it is to be a mother until you experience it for yourself, either.