Swimming

My sister gave birth to her first baby on Friday, and talking with her about the birth has really flooded me with memories.

As she described her daughter's emergence into the world, I remembered so clearly the crowning and the final pushes. I pushed for nearly three hours. X was sunny-side-up, and his position made this part extremely difficult.

I remember being told to push, push harder. Put your chin to your chest. Pull on the sheet (attached to the bar over the bed) and concentrate!

Now, wait! Don't push. Wait, wait.

Then, his head was free. I needed to push again, and again.

Suddenly his warm, tiny body was swimming out of me in a rush of fluid. All the support nurses sprang into action. I lay back, overwhelmed, wanting to hold my tiny baby, waiting for him to be handed to me.

Pride and grief mingled. I had done it -- delivered my baby -- but I would no longer feel his swimming movements inside. He was in my world. In our world. He was taking his first breaths.