The Life of Pie

Today The Pie and I celebrated her 5th birthday with a breakfast of pink pancakes, pizza for dinner and a friend sleeping over. I can’t believe it’s been five years since that little creature made her debut at 5:29 p.m. on a Friday evening.

I checked in to the hospital the night before, after a dinner of gyros and root beer. My friend Becky was planning to be with me throughout labor and delivery so she with me during registration. I was settled in my room, given an Ambien and Pitocin and we were left to our own devices. I don’t recall exactly what the topic was, but we talked and giggled like little girls practically all night. I was on a fetal heart monitor (which we called a He-tal Fart Monitor – after an hilarious scene from a movie called Micki and Maude), so I was unable to get up for any reason…even to use the restroom.


At 6:00 the next morning, more Pitocin was administered and I began to experience labor. It was no more uncomfortable than menstrual cramps but knowing it would result in something fabulous kept me going. At exactly noon on April 20, my water broke. For the life of me, I will never know why, but I asked, “What color is it?” The nurses determined meconium was present, so they attached a flushing tube to me. For the next five hours, I experienced moderately severe contractions and remember holding the hand of The Pie’s Poppy while he prayed and squeezing until I thought the man would yell out in pain!


At 5:02 p.m., my doctor waltzed in and said, “Let’s get her out of there,” as if she were a POW or something. Within minutes, I was in the delivery room, receiving a spinal block – which left my entire back bruised – and being draped for a C-section. When they finally let Becky in, I felt relief that someone could tell me what was going on…but she is, shall we say “vertically challenged” and couldn’t see over the drape. I asked, “When are they going to start ?” and was answered with laughter. The doc advised me that they had already made the cut and were pulling my daughter out even as I asked the question.


The glorious moment is a little blurry for me, but I do remember waiting to hear her little cry. It seemed to take forever from the moment they pulled her from my body – a nurse crying, “oh, how cute!” – until she took her first breath without my assistance. In that moment, I discovered that I received the fulfillment of a wish I never spoke, a dream I never knew I had and the answer to a prayer I never dared to ask.