I wasn’t planning on having anyone in the room but Melissa and Travis. When my mom came in to see me, I didn’t want her to leave; she was my strong tower. Even her presence reminded me that she knew what was about to happen. She was there, our spirits exchanging words and life that our physical bodies didn’t understand.
My blood pressure was high and contractions unusually strong. In between crunching ice chips and Bradley Method breathing, I would look over to see her sitting on the little couch nearby, watching quietly. A mother’s face tells everything, holds everything. Though she watched my pain, she whispered, “You’re doing so good. You can do it.”
In moments when she needed to be, she sat at the edge of the bed and let me to push my feet hard against her hands–something that strangely helped me through a contraction. I seemed to gain a Hulk-like strength in those moments, more than I ever though possible of myself, as she tried to push back and keep me steady.
Eliot came at 3:09 PM, after 6 hours of hard labor. He came on his due date. He came and cried. He came attached to me, and then he took the leap into the world, broken from my ultimate shelter. Just moments earlier, Mom held my hand as I pushed and groaned. Mom told me, “You’re almost there, you’ve got it Kait.”
She ran back and forth from our room to the lobby, making announcements on my progress, letting friends and family read the emotion etched on her face each time she walked through the double doors.
Finally he was here. Finally she could announce it. Finally they could cheer and celebrate. New life. New Marmee to her new grandson. New life bringing new relationship between a mother and her daughter.