Andrew Golis Mothers are supposed to feel an all-encompassing joy when they look at their children for the first time. But even now, as my daughter celebrates her first birthday, I'm still waiting. I love my daughter. But not only is this feeling a relatively new one, it's something that hasn't come easy — something I have worked towards rather than an innate given.
It was two thirty in the afternoon on a gorgeous sunny, fall, Tuesday. My favorite day of the week. I received a long awaited phone call from Tacoma General hospital. A nice young lady with a soft voice let me know that there was an open room available and to come as soon as I could to be prepped for induction.
I was two weeks overdue in my pregnancy. After hanging up the phone, I just stood in one place as my mind went blank. I then had a rush of excitement and angst.
I was about to give birth, and it was going to happen within the next twenty four hours, whether I was prepared or not. I first ran down stairs to find my mom and let her know the good news. I mumbled "Mom, they have a room opened and we have to go NOW!
Do you have extra clothes? Are you going to take a shower or go in the pajamas that you have been wearing for the last two days? I was anxious to finally meet the little baby that had been growing in my body for the last nine months.
I was jumping up and down from all the excitement and joyous feelings rushing through my plump, expanded, overindulged body.
An hour later I was ready to go. I did a lot of double checking to make sure I had everything. I checked the car seat to make sure it was in place and all pieces were in contact.
I tightened the seat belt fives times. I popped the trunk twice to make sure all bags were in. I plopped into the passenger seat, strapped in and took a deep breath. This would be the last time I leave my house alone. I will be guaranteed to return with a little bundle of joy in my arms.
My mother and I arrive at the hospital forty five minutes later. We drive around the block twice, there is no parking available anyway near the entrance. We drive around once more and finally see a spot about to be opened.
Before we even pull in, I have my seatbelt off and my hand on the car door ready to open it. As soon as she pulls into the spot, I jump out of the car and walk briskly to the door.
My mother yells "Anna, what about all of your stuff! Together, my mother and I enter the left wing of the hospital. We pass through two sets of sliding glass doors. My heart is pounding and I feel a little dizzy as we approach the counter.
My mother speaks for me and asks directions of where we need to go to get admitted. The receptionist points down the hall and tells us to enter through the third door on the right. As we are walking down the hallway, I am being stared at by all the passersby's.
There is a janitor strolling along on the left side of the hallway with his yellow bucket and drenched mop.narrative essay- giving birth, its not graphic - EssayForum Apr 21, I was two weeks overdue in my rutadeltambor.com hanging up the phone, I just stood in one place as my mind went blank.
I then had a rush of The Miracle of Life Essay-- Personal Narrative Pregnancy Labor The process before actually giving birth, I think is the hardest part of the entire scenario of child bearing. Personal Birth Plan Essay.
Words 7 Pages. This personal birth plan is going to explore the idea of a natural home delivery with a midwife present. I personally feel that for my birth experience I would like my baby to be untouched by labor drugs and to . Personalized baby gifts are an amazing way to celebrate a new life.
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