I wrote your birth story last night. I have been meaning to attach words to the unearthly beautiful experience for quite some time now and, with a little prompting, I finally sat down and did it.
It's not your birthday....yet, but, nevertheless...it needed to be done and last night seemed a proper night to do it.
Whew.
Okay.
You and Gray are asleep, Daddy's watching a movie, and I am in my corner with the computer, a glass of red, and the looming greatness of putting something beautiful into words. I've put it into pictures...and pieced it together with music, but words? Hard to do.
The day before my wedding, someone told me to go buy a journal and write everything I could possibly remember that day so that I didn't forget...because she promised me, if I didn't, that I would indeed forget. Best advice. Before we left for our honeymoon, I bought a red-velvet covered blank book and I did nothing else on our 3-hour flight but scribble, scribble, scribble. Every thought. Every sound. Every sight. Every scent. Every emotion. And I'm so glad I did...because I never want to forget that beautiful day, and without my little written memories, so much of it would be lost.
I wish I would have done the same with your birth. But I was just completely exhausted with life, and your brother......making sure that he was having the best.last.summer.ever.as.a.single.child....and when we finally got home from the hospital, I was so emotionally drained, and so entirely wrapped around your presence, I couldn't do it. And I've told myself so many times since, that I really needed to go and write while I could remember...
And it is until now...that you, sweet Rylee bug, have held me accountable.
And my account now, 1 year after, is probably a bit different than what it would have been if I would have set to the task sooner...but nevertheless...I will tell you what I will remember. And being asked to tell one's birth story is, to me such a beautiful invitation. Nothing I'd rather talk about. ...but words are hard to find.
May be the wine...may be Addison Road in the background...may be the raw emotion of wanting to be pregnant again...or the sheer beauty in these memories, but regardless...tears are already spilling. And it feels good. Really good, baby girl!
I loved being pregnant. Every single moment. Was sick as a dog for 13 weeks and lost seven pounds my first three months but would do it again a trillion times over. I loved knowing, no matter where I was...that I wasn't alone...that it was me & someone else. I couldn't wait until my tummy got huge and round and what I wouldn't do....oh, for the love of all things holy, what I wouldn't do to feel you kick again. I loved being pregnant. I loved it, loved it, loved it. And the night before I knew I was going to have you...I cried because, despite the fact I was just sick with excitement to meet you, hold you, love you...I knew you wouldn't be a part of me physically anymore. That is the most beautiful thing that could ever happen to a human. Ever.
Thank you, Eve.
I'm glad she ate that apple, you know? I'm so glad she ate it.
So...anyway. In the middle of all this pregnancy thing, I had the most wonderful, beautiful doctor ever. She's just good and kind and I never had to see anyone else but her...and I never worried about anything because I had no reason to. We had a connection. Your brother was born
on her birthday and even though she had been out to dinner that night, celebrating herself with family and friends.....she still came in to deliver him. At 10:59 p.m. on her birthday.
Funny...since I had your brother, many of my friends have been pregnant and they'll ask me, "Did you have the triple marker test? Were you nervous about the blood test at twenty weeks? Did you...blah, blah, blah" and I seriously can't remember ever ever being nervous or scared or anxious. I just knew you (we) were fine...and my doctor was a huge part of that. Which is why I was induced because, she was leaving on vacation on a Saturday for two weeks and the Monday before she left, my ultrasound showed me ready to go...and I couldn't bear the fact of one of her colleagues--Someone I had never met--being part of the most amazing event in my life. So, we decided together to choose my date.
8/17/10.
I went in on a Tuesday morning at 5:30 and when I close my eyes...I remember everything.
I wore a black dress and sparkly black flip flops and my necklace....the one with your and your brother's name on it. And I remember that the nurse who checked me in and got me into bed....her name was Michelle, just like my best friend and the nurse who took my blood, her daughter's name was Riley...spelled different from yours...but none the less, it was my sign that everything was just as it should be.
I remember Michelle asking me if I just felt that...."felt what?"....you just had a contraction, see? Up there on the screen?? That's showing the heartbeat....and that, yep, you just had another one. "Oh"....I thought they were just sweet little kicks and hiccoughs.
I remember having to lie on my left side because "she doesn't like when you lie on your right"...and smiling that they talked about you as if you were already here....and had a personality...with likes and dislikes. I loved that you didn't like my right side.
My daddy, your Pawpaw, was my very first visitor. This made Mommy's day! To have the two most important men in my life, in my room, right before I met you....it gave me peace.
The story is long---beautiful, but long--and I will spare you every detail...in fact, the only way I can do this is gonna be stream-of-consciousness...so hang on, sistah....
I remember the look on your Daddy's face...thinking "he's gonna be sick" and my fear of him missing your birth because of his decision to have an espresso and a breakfast burrito at 6 am that morning.
I remember walking into the room and seeing the warming bed and being hit hard with the realization that this was the bed my baby--inside my body--would be lying in. And there was a folded receiving blanket and a little stretchy cotton hat lying there...it was pink and white with a little bow....and I remember saying out loud, "Holy crap. That very hat is going to be on my baby's head." It was just so...real. And happening.
I remember, in the middle of getting the epidural, my nurse bringing me a little hospital bracelet she found that said, "Richard's Baby" and crying when I saw it...and staring at the handwritten name--my baby's name--while I eased into numbness.
I remember looking at the clock and thinking "it's 7:15 and they are wheeling me to the O.R. at 7:30 and I haven't had my epidural yet and oh.my.gosh. am I going to feel everything????" And then my nurse Michelle pushing in my i.v. and the anesthesiologist pushing the needle in with my feet still down and I asked, "will I feel this right away" and her answering, "yes" and then I said, "but I don't...." and then I smiled and melted while they hoisted my legs onto the table.
I remember feeling so incredibly hot and telling the nurse that I was going to be sick and she said "count to 5" and I did....."one two three four".....ahhhhh, much better....as a blast of liquid ice ran through my veins to cool me off.
I remember feeling very, very in love with your Daddy and feeling very blessed to have someone so loving. I remember loving the laid-back atmosphere and Dr Innes casually talking to me and the nurses about her weekend with her boys and laughing and dozing while I listened to laughing and being surprised at how comfortable and normal this all was...and being very, very aware that through all of this laughter and talking and pulling and pressure..there was this little background music of a little heartbeat. Your heartbeat.
I remember thinking how crazy it was that you would be born right around 8 am....I labored with your brother for 22 hours.
I remember wanting to hold you so bad. Just wanting to hold you. And smell you. And nurse you. And love on you.
And then, there you were. I heard the most amazing little cry, your little horse voice saying, "I'm here! I'm here!" "Mommmmmmmmma, I'm here!"
It was beautiful. And perfect.
They asked Daddy to come around to see you and hold you while they were sewing me up. The anticipation was killing me.
I could hear him talking to you, loving you....I knew right then that you had him. Wrapped around your sweet little fingers.
And then he brought you over to me and you were pink and perfect and crying, and Daddy handed you right to me. 7 pounds, 10 ounces of pure joy. heaven. placed in my arms...and your eyes were open and you were crying and I pulled your pink body to my face and kissed it over and over...letting my tears wash your face.
I remember saying, "Happy birthday, happy birthday, I love you angel" over and over. And sobbing. Just sobbing with joy. And I remember your daddy's face so close to mine I could feel the heat from it.
And I forgot everyone else in the room existed...and it was the three of us. Crying and smiling and laughing and kissing.
They rolled me into the recovery room with you and Daddy and there in that room, I nursed you for the first time....and it was so beautiful and perfect....you latched on like you knew exactly what you were doing.
We were in there for an hour.
I remember just staring at you and thinking I was staring at Grayson but in girl form. You had these beautiful, big, pink lips that pouted out like they were plumped with restylane. Oh they were friggin' beautiful. And these cheeks that were so squishy. Your breath smelled like medicine. I remember thinking I must be dreaming because certainly, the happiness I felt was not humanly possible.
We drank you in...for what seemed like forever, but it wasn't even an hour before all of our friends and family...seventeen to be exact, piled in the hospital room with us to welcome you.
And talk about love overflowin'.......when your Nana brought your Bubba in to see you for the very first time.......
Oh God, Rylee.....that, for me, was indescribable. It exploded my heart!
And I watched my mom hold you...my baby girl and my mom, and I just couldn't believe this was my baby girl in her arms. Everyone told me before that I wouldn't want to give you up to anyone...but I was completely fine...overjoyed, in fact, watching these people I love hold you and love you, too. Someone snuck a bottle of champagne in....was it you, Lindsay?? And we poured it in dixie cups. And I remember, just an hour after you were born, my legs still numb, everyone holding their dixie cups up (oh...tears)...and hearing the chorus of voices say, "To Rylee Ann"...as they tapped their little paper cups and I held this swaddling thing..our thing...in my arms.
It. Was. Beautiful.
I remember it was 9:45 at night when the last friend left and it was just me and your Daddy and you. And being handed my swaddling baby to hold in...and just thinking that I had never, ever been more proud. I remember the quiet of the room with the three of us...and we whispered and snuggled in bed together. And about 1:00, I told Daddy to go home and get some sleep...because I knew he loved his bed and because I knew we would be fine, just us girls. And when he left, I remember thinking my heart would burst. Just sitting there, holding you, looking at you.....knowing I got to be alone with you for the next several hours.
And we got to know one another that day.....that hour. You and me, best friends...for life.
I don't know what else to say. It's just untouchable ground. Pure, raw emotion.
...and it's a choppy ending...but it hasn't ended. It keeps going. For the last 11 months, I've felt that feeling. Maybe not as new or raw, but there are days where it just hits me like...holy crap. You were in my body. Squished up in my body swipin' your knee across my stomach, and you're out. You're right here, and you're mine. And I love you so very much.
Happy Birthday, Sweet Angel. Happy 1st Birthday!
~Love, Momma
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