Two years ago right now I was angry. I was crying myself to sleep, great big alligator tears of anger. I had prepared and readied and hoped. But not for this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Every book I'd read about preparing for labor had a section on surgical deliveries. Most were an afterthought - after pages and pages of information about stages of labor, timing contractions, back labor and pushing, there would be a paragraph or two about what happens if you have a C-section. I didn't read them.
I thought by reading those paragraphs, I would be preparing for that eventuality, and I didn't want to have a C-section. No sir, not me. I wasn't planning to go "natural", but I was at least planning to have a "normal" delivery.
I went to Big Lots and bought cheap panties that were three sizes too big so if they got soiled after birth I could just throw them away. I bought a new robe and slippers and a notebook for a journal, and packed up a bag with my essentials.
I had been ordered on bedrest, but I was planning to at least get the house cleaned up over spring break week before propping my feet up to let the bun finish baking in the oven.
Then the plans changed. Hospitalized. Breech. No induction. Surgery on Friday, April 3.
Two years ago tonight I was angry. I was crying myself to sleep, great big alligator tears of anger. I had prepared and readied and hoped. But not for this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
Tonight I am planning. A party to celebrate what happened two years ago tomorrow. Because even thought it didn't happen the way I planned, a tiny little girl came into my life and changed it forever. Over the last two years I have learned that it's not all about me, I can want what I want but that doesn't mean it happens that way, and that life truly is what happens while you are making other plans.
The party of the century. To celebrate the sweetest, most precious girl in the whole world. The only people I know for sure are coming are my parents, my godmother, a close friend, two colleagues, and the waiter from our favorite Mexican restaurant. There will be somewhere between 5 and 100 people in my house tomorrow to celebrate my daughter's birthday.
I should know it's not going to be exactly the way I plan.
I also know that however it turns out, it will be perfectly fine.
The last two years have already taught me that.