Zoe's First Day

Zoe came into the world on her own terms. After a long last trimester of bedrest and worry because of blood pressure issues and the fact that the little monkey (yes, she earned the name in utero) was all kinds of breech, she bestowed us with her sweet and "attitudinal" self via C section on December 21st, 2005. For the record, it was not me who named her attitudinal - it was the nurses who cared for her after her birth.

Most babies who are born via C Section don't cry right away. Zoe came out crying. LOUDLY.
Her first order of business after being bathed and put in a bassinet was to kick the chart the nurse had lay down right off of it.



It did not at all surprise me that she did this when the story was later relayed to me, as she had been kicking the shit out of me for about 4 months, right up until the very end. She tap danced, practiced tai chi, riverdanced, played soccer and just generally used her legs to pummel me in any way possible.

The hallmark of her birth is that she came out feet first.

After the chart kicking incident young Zoe cried and fretted incessantly (I believe it is because I was not allowed to see her) and was thus aptly and affectionately named "attitudinal" by the nursery staff.

I say this now with laughter, but it was a scary time. Zoe swallowed amniotic fluid when she came out (of the TEN AND A HALF INCH INCISION) and was having some breathing difficulties. Often times C section babies breath too rapidly and do not have the appropriate oxygen mixture in their lungs having been deprived of the natural birth process. Zoe was one of them.

She was in an oxygen isolette for 24 hours after she was born; unequivocally these were longest hours of my life. I was worried sick for her though I was assured she was in no real danger. I was worried enough that I asked the nurses to amp me up on enough pain killers for me to get out of bed and get down to the nursery to see her. They were very kind to let me do this because I had more bleeding than they were comfortable with and I had orders not to get up until the next day.

True to form though, the nurses that were also mothers understood, and helped me get to her. There, touching her for the first time I finally cried. She was so little, so beautiful and so perfect. I had never felt such love and strength before. I had never been so afraid but I also felt natural and confident. I wanted to hold her so badly I almost shouted it at the nurse. Instead, I quietly held her hand and cried joyously at the miracle of her.