My nurse, a former midwife from Ireland, held my hand.  My husband, who had never shone so brightly in the three years I had known him, stood behind me, stroking my hair.  My midwife, who is perhaps the most open, compassionate, strong women I have ever had the honor to know decreed "in a few more pushes, you will hold your baby!"

And I, in this center of this circle of love and support, was scared out of my mind. 

I was scared I would tear. I was afraid of the pain. And I was terrified of becoming a mother.  I was afraid I wouldn't have the strength to soothe my child when he would cry at 2am. Then 3am and 5am.  I was feared I would lose my freedom.  I was dreaded that I would forever be torn between my work and my family and would need to give up working fervently for organization that I loved so.

And in the middle of this fear came another surge, and an instinct stronger than fear took hold. I went inside, to a cave I had curled up in through countless waves of pain and exhaustion through my labor. My body pushed.  It was doing what it needed to do.  A scared girl went into that cave with each contraction.  And as I pushed my baby out of my body, a mother emerged.
 


Comments

01/05/2010 23:43

I love it, You are an amazing writter. Amazing mother. Amazing friend.

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Jodie
01/06/2010 09:44

Wow! That is a beautiful depecition of birth and the transition into Motherhood!

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07/20/2010 13:25

I am going to try to have a baby next year but decided to started research. I did not realized so much to considered from type of birth to the minute matters of diapers. I have the same fear of being a horrible mother and not living up to a standard.

Thanks for the post it has given me some clarity.
Leslie

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