One of my newest favorite blogs held a birth story party on her space a few weeks back. I never participated. I have been wanting to tell the stories of how my daughters emerged into this big bright world for some time. But it sort of feels like telling to the world might make it over. Like once it’s written down, I can’t live it anymore. Seems backwards, I know. But it’s time. The following is the letter I wrote to Sevilla about her birth a few months before she turned two years old. I was 3 months pregnant with Sage and wanted to be sure her story was told when it was still completely hers. Some of my views and opinions have changed, but I’ve decided to keep this story intact, as it was written with complete honesty and love in that time. Maybe in a year or so, I’ll get around to finishing Sage’s story, but for now I’m keeping that one a little longer.

My dear sweet angel Sevilla,

I’ve been wanting to tell your story. You earned it before anyone else. You deserve it told, documented, and revered before it gets lost in the shuffle of this new birth and your special details are forgotten. Your story is pure, sweet, and joyful. But your story also includes my story, and there is a quick moment of sorrow in my part. I’ve avoided writing this story because I fear devaluing the amazing gift you are to me by muddying things up with my own pride. But we are not separate from each other, thus our stories cannot be. With all the love in my heart I am going to tell you honestly how you arrived and hope that you can know the joy we feel that you chose us to be your family, and forgive me my pride that I could not give you the entrance I had so hoped I could. I now understand the dance of your birth was not a solo one for me to undertake and deliver to you but a partnership where each of our steps had to set in rhythm before we were able to twirl away. In finally writting your story, two months before your second birthday, I acknowledge that you were there too, that the journey was not simply mine to give, but that you made your own way bursting through, aching to know the world and you haven’t stopped since that day.

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I finally stopped working on your due date. Since you needed a few more days in the warmth of my belly, we patiently anticipated your arrival for a full 10 days after we were told you might come. On the third day past your estimated arrival I decided to have some acupuncture done just to let you know we were ready for you to come and say hello.  I sat in my doctors office for an hour needles in my toes, fingers, and forehead, speaking to you, inviting you to come and meet us. I felt your little toes answer me with a flutter then quickly hide away. You heard me, but needed just a few more days. The next day, we went to the hospital for an ultrasound and some monitoring. We saw that you were doing fine happily swimming and heart beating away safe inside. Desperately wanting to avoid induction and a c-section, I opted for a second acupuncture treatment three days later. The very next day, you began your decent.

Your dad and I had a fairly routine Saturday morning. After a very light breakfast, we did some shopping in Scottsdale and met a friend for some beers at the Yardhouse. Well, the boys not me. A little short on funds, we shared a plate of garlic fries. I sampled the various beers as they came around, but couldn’t stop guzzling the iced tea I ordered. All of a sudden, I thought I peed my pants. I discretely excused myself to the bathroom and found not urine, but water. A small trickle, not a gush as I was told to anticipate. You were still cautiously, as you do now when faced with something new, making your way. I secretely told your dad we needed to go and we snuck away without our friend ever knowing a thing. We sped quickly home to examine things further and call the doctor. The cold wet evidence of your impending arrival still slowly coming forth.

We paged the doctor and what seemed like a long while later, she called back. I was sitting on the toilet afraid of getting water everywhere and your dad handed me the phone. Nervous and unsure, I told her I thought my water had broken. The call was quite broken up and I felt strange talking to her. I think she told us to go to the hospital so we got ready. This was the first thing, I wish I would have done differently. I would have liked to stay home a bit longer while you readied yourself, but once the water breaks they like you to go right in. I should have questioned them anyway. We slowly gathered our bags and headed out to the hospital.

Not having eaten anything but a half a plate of garlic french fries, your dad ran to the hosptial cafeteria and grabbed us a few things while we waited to be checked in. Since I was not yet in labor, it was an easy check in. We leisurely filled out paperwork and they eventually transferred us to a triage room. I was changed into the hospital clothing and waited in the room that simply had a curtain for a door. After some time, a nurse came in to check on us. I was dilated to 4 cm and hadn’t felt a thing. We were then moved to a labor and delivery room.

The labor room was very cozy and bright. The first nurse that attended during most of our labor was a young gal, very kind, and understanding. After all the preliminary information was passed on I was hooked up to an IV for glucose and fetal monitoring straps to check your status. I also met with the anesthesiologist to sign a waver in case I wanted an epidural. I never should have done this either. It was after this we called your grandparents and your aunt. Shortly they all arrived and excitment filled the room as well as an abundance of love in anticipation of your coming. We played some cards and continued to wait. Many hours later, there had been no change and I had only felt a few small contractions. This is where the story becomes difficult for me to tell. I wish, my dear heart that I had had the strength to honor your need to progress slowly through the chamber of life and allowed you to arrive in the cautious way you go. But on a recommendation from the doctor I was injected with pitocen a labor inducing drug. Within an hour, things dramatically changed.

Labor progressed quickly after this point. In the beginning I felt some intense contractions as my body stretched to make way for your beautiful soul. In these moments I felt so close to you and we danced and swayed as each one settled. I then had a minute or more to collect myself and gear up for another. Each person present took turns in aiding me as I embraced the pain and turned it into joy. In between these difficult steps we shared laughter and stories with everyone in the room. It was an awesome time for family. We were all there together helping you to make your decent.

Within a few hours, the contractions became more present and with less break in between. It was in these moments that your entire family grew 1000 feet tall and let me stand on their shoulders. Your great aunt carrie rushed home to get a giant pilates ball that I sat on and spread my legs and rocked back and forth upon easing the tension. She also let me grab her hand so tight it turned red with love. She wielded beautiful words of encouragement and strength. She rubbed sweet jasmine oil on my back and forehead to calm my nerves and ease the pain. Your grandfather, despite the uncomfortability he must have felt, softly rubbed my back and didn’t get angry when at one point I yelled at him to stop touching me. Your grandmather massaged my back and shoulders, braided my hair when it became an uncharatarstically terrible nuissance and whispered words of strength each time I thought I was too weak to continue. They were all there for me, for you.

There became a time, however when only your father would do. Your amazing dad held me as I lay my arms on his shoulders sticking out my butt dancing and swaying with the pulsing pain of each contraction. He stared so deeply into my eyes during the most intense moments of pain I felt as though he had crawled inside of me and gave me his strength. He spoke softly to you, rubbing my belly asking you to be kind in your entrance and letting you know how excited he was that you were finally going to be here. He breathed every breath with me, felt every muscle and ligament stretch and grow. He told me I was the strongest most amazing person in the world. I was a goddess in his presence. These 10 hours were the most joyfilled, excruciating moments I have ever experienced. Our family gathered around us to donate their strength and will. It was obvious ina he love that eminated from the room, and by the sweet nurse that stayed away and did not intrude on our most private of moments knowing she was not needed. It was truly magical.

Then very quickly, it seemed, the contractions did not stop. There was no rest whatsoever inbetween and they were long and intense. I was only dilated to 7.5 at this point. For about another hour, your dad and I held each other tightly and let things progress. I was becoming very tired and starving though I did not realize it. They would not let me eat solid foods, in the event that a c-section became necessary and the french fries and small snack from earlier had disappeared hours before. The sugar drip was not existant in my opinion, and I made your dad sneak me a granola bar that seemed to evaporate just as it was opened. Finally we had the talk. I told your dad I was at my breaking point and could no longer go on. We had discussed before how we would handle this situation if it came up, but I was fairly certain it would not so we did not prepare much. Your sweet father said all the right things and tried so desperately to keep me strong. Your dear aunt carrie told me of her lost moment with her only daughter and your grandparents said they knew I could do it. I asked the nurse to check my progress and I was sitting pretty at 7.5. Not moved in over an hour.

It is at this point in the story my greatest disappointment is realized. I did not believe I had the strength to carry on and ask for the epidural despite all the encouragement from our lovebomb. They called the anesthesiologist and there was a short wait. The oddest thing happened at this point, the pain almost subsided. It was as if knowing it was soon to be over, I could now handle it. This memory, in hindsight is the most difficult. When he finally arrived, I remember being able to sit perfectly still as he administered the drug, a feat that only moments before seemed impossible. I mentioned that I could still feel some intense pain and without asking me first, the anesthesiologist simply upped the dosage. All at once, the pain was gone. Within 15 minutes, your dad, your grandfather, and grandmother were asleep. I was not far behind.

Three hours later, I was awakened and told that you were crowning. Rested and excited that you were about to be staring back at me, I would not think about the epidural for many weeks to come. There was only one thing to focus on. The doc came, everyone geared up and got ready. A nurse held one leg while your father held the other as I could not feel nor move them from the anesthesia. They hiked em up high and pushed back. The doctor asked me to push, which I could not really feel, but managed anyway. I pushed twice and your dad yelled, “I see her head!!” With your entire family watching you gushed into the light of the early Sunday morning of February 17th with a wail and a scream fitting for a hot blooded latina. It was at this moment your dad decided on your name, Sevilla.

They immediately layed you at my breast and easily you began to eat. You were so eager for food, your top lip was folded over as you nursed, and you still bear the mark of that first moment we touched. You were then transferred to a small bed with a heating lamp and the afterbirth was delivered and I received two small stiches. Your father stayed with you the entire time. You were never away from us at any moment in your days at the hospital. You were cleaned, vaccinated, measured, and weighed screaming every step of the way until, your daddy held out his hand which you immediately wrapped your sweet fingers around and ceased crying.

When the nurses were done, they returned you to me and we were transferred out of the labor room. Each of your welcoming team came to say hello then scurried off to let us bask in our new family love. You and I slept much of the day, you snuggled right at my chest. The remainder of the time, you were tightly in your daddy’s arms. You spent very few moments in the cold hard bassinet they brought to us decorated with your name. That first night was challenging as you were determined to stay on my breast whether or not you were hungry. As you needed to stay in the womb a bit longer, we thought you were just not quite ready to come as fast as you had and really needed  the comfort of your mama. However, you still cried and cried. A sweet nurse offered us some salvation in a pacifier and you were quited and calm immediately. This was when we discovered your cute little fettish to which you still cling when things get rough. We all slept some, your dad crunched up on a fold out couch with his feet in a little planter box at the end, us propped up in the hospital bed.

The next day we were extremely impatient to take you home. Though we were checked out and clear to go, we had to wait the entire day for my doctor to come and sign off on me. Finally around 4pm Monday, we were able to bring you home. We dressed you in the receiving gown your father came home from the hospital in decorated with some ballet shoes to signify your sharing it with his little blue lamb, and tucked you into your carseat. As we drove off from the hospital, we witnessed the most beautiful sunset either of us had ever seen. With all the normal purples and blues of an Arizona winter sunset, but with a golden lining that must have been made just for you.

In these moments we were so filled with joy, exhaustion, and love just to know you had chosen us. You have delighted, and tested, and expanded your father and I every day since we met you, my sweet Sevilla, and I am ever so thankful you are in our lives. Your delight for everything, your passion, and your intense capacity for love makes me understand it’s not important how you got here, but that you got here. And really, it was a magically filled 13 hours of the most intense love, joy, and community we have ever known. Not a bad way to make an entrance.

My deepest love and gratitude,

Mama