my baby is 12

Well, dear readers, it was 12 years ago today that I was hooked up to the pitocin, ready but not ready at all to become a mother....pit at 6 am, cranked up hourly until they broke my water at 11 am, immediate pain and me curled up on my side crying with my eyes shut gripping the lifeboat that the tiny hopital bed rails had become, wishing I had packed a shotgun instead of whatever goofy stuff the books had told me to pack...then the epidural angel came and I was sitting up and chatting with Steve, pinching my legs under the blankets and wishing I had the opportunity to get a tattoo so numb...then I thought I had to go to the bathroom and when we asked for a nurse assistance she "checked me" and then the big lights came down from the sky to glare upon my bum and they all slapped broccoli stinky masks on ym faceand urged me to push! push! push like youre gonna have a bowel movement, honey! Good! Good! Good! Push! no! yes! yes! thats great! wow a lot of hair, here she is! its a girl!

tears of total confusion and happiness. a girl a girl oh thank god shes so fat and purple-pink and slimy

they took her over to the warmer or something and they started their crotch surgery and gimme a few more pushes honey for the placenta and then wrappy wrap youre all wrapped up heres your blanket baby do you wanna try and feed her?

?!?!?!?

It was so crazy. But I was happy. I was gonna name her Eva, or Eva-Kate, or Greta, or Elsa. Someone said "Eva sounds like Evil" (this was before the Eva craze plus we were gonna pronounce it Ava but this was before the Ava craze) so I just went with Greta. Greta Katherine. No reason at all, just sounded awesome to me and Steve.

I was on magnesium sulfate for another 24 hours after the delivery so I felt really hot and ill but I had no idea it was from that--they never told me--so when they took it out, I felt SO AWESOME! Except my poor coochie. Oh god what had become of me. The pain was very disturbing and I could barely move around in the bed. But the baby was soooooooooooooooo cute and I was feeling so clear headed and proud, that I just hoped it would heal someday.

We had her on a Monday and I had to stay until Thursday. So we enjoyed our time and she nursed and looked so cute. I was 22 and this was kind of all I really thought about the whole thing--bless my heart--she is so cute, I cant wait to dress her in cool clothes, ow my poor crotch, I cant wait to give her hairdo's, I want some taco bell, I look so skinny....such is the young mind.

We brought her home and did the classic drive 25 in the right lane thing. The world seemed dangerous and oblivious to miracles. We got up into our tiny upper flat and took her out of the bucket and watched TV together. Steve's parents bought us an air conditioner for our front window and she had a big black meconium blow-out on the couch and we gave her some ramshackle bath in a little bathtub on the floor and it was hard to dress her. Steve went to work the very next day and my milk came in and it was kind of rough. My mom brought me into the hospital for a blood pressure check and that trip wiped me out pretty bad. Some friends tried to come over that night and I got weepy.

But literally, I was be-bopping within 2 weeks, taking her up north to my grandmas, shopping, everywhere.

Happy birthday Greta angel. You have always been so ridiculously good, I will never know what I did to deserve you!