Jacie Nevaeh

And so after a relatively uneventful pregnancy ( if you don't count water retention resulting in swollen face, legs, and feet; gestational diabetes requiring finger pricks multiple times daily and a strict diet; and numbness/tingling in both hands), induction was scheduled for my due date, July 20, 2010. I prayed that she would come naturally, but, honestly the pessimistic side of me thought, "Why would I be so lucky?" Then again God's grace shamed and humbled me as I woke up on Wednesday, July 14 at 4 AM with definite contractions -- not the uneven cramping I'd experienced on Sunday, but timed, regular, countable contractions. I woke Conroy up at about 6 AM and we discussed when we should call the doctor. My water broke around 7 AM, urging us to make the call. Per directions, I showered and took my time getting ready so that we left the house around 8:30 AM. As soon as I reached the hospital, I began asking for an epidural, sure that I would not be able to bear the pain on my own. Around 1 PM that finally happened, just as the contractions were becoming toe-curling. The immediate relief from pain made for a quiet, relaxing afternoon as Conroy and I chatted, watched TV and solidified our decision of Jacie's name (Kiera Jewel or Jacie Nevaeh?)

Then at 8 PM, the grand moment arrived. Nurses and the doctor came into the room and started me with the process of pushing. At this point, the epidural was only offering minor relief. As a lady in another screamed, the nurse casually mentioned "... and she had an epidural."

"Don't tell me that!" I blurted, but then mentally pushed the fear of pain from my mind. There was no going back now. One way or the other, this baby was coming out! At one point in the midst of the two-hour blur of pushing, working harder than I'd ever done in my life, I thought and voiced "I can't do this anymore! It's too hard." The nurse repeated the refrain of the past hour " You're almost there! We can see the head." "Yeah, sure," I thought. "That's what you have to say..."

"Well," I remember thinking. "She's gotta come at some point, and I'm surely closer than I was when I began." Then I would look at Conroy's face and see the excitement there. I wanted to laugh in fond amusement at how like my own personal cheerleader he was as he would call out, "You can do it! She's almost out! I can see her head!"

Then, in a blur that I can't even recall, it was over and she was crying on the table next to me as they cleaned her up. I remember looking at her after they gave her to me and feeling an odd detachment. Who is this person? How can she really be my daughter? The word seemed strange to me....