Today my daughter is almost seven months old. I've waited my whole life to become a mom and somewhere in my early 30s, I resigned myself to the idea that I might not have the opportunity. So, when I found out on that chilly November morning in the tiny, fluorescent lit bathroom stall of LA Fitness that I would have the chance to be a mom, my world quaked. My pregnancy was a true dream. Georgia was mellow and would gently kick to let me know she was there. I craved lemonade for the entire time...in fact, it was the last thing I ate before my unexpected c-section and maintained a steady walking routine. I felt blessed that I was able to work through the entire experience with limited morning sickness caused by an empty stomach so I kept pretzel thins with me in the car. The smell of coffee also made my stomach churn. We sang, "You Are My Sunshine" to her every night and talked to her so often. I took prenatal yoga and slept a lot. I got prenatal massages and took my vitamins religiously. I experienced one intense contraction in the days before my emergency c-section but will never know what it would have been like to naturally bring her into the world and that's ok. I guess things in my life always seem to pop up unannounced much like my high blood pressure that day. I remember being strapped to the fetal monitor in the triage room, hearing water break next to me and ladies in active labor while Colin and I patiently got ready for our operation. I will never forget seeing him in his scrubs and how the time inched slowly to 11:07. I remember the freezing, sterile operating room and only seeing the doctor's eyes. I remember rounding my spine for the anesthesia. I remember feeling my body being tugged from side to side as they woke her up from her slumber. She was breech the entire time, nestled up around my lungs and I hope they pulled her gently down. I remember hearing the surgeons talk about the weekend. I remember the song, "Take Me to Church" was on which depressed me and then right before you arrived, the song, "Sugar" by Maroon 5 came on. The song that always came on during my pregnancy, during my commute, during your arrival...and that was special to me. I remember hearing your cry and Colin saying how beautiful you were. I remember someone saying, "Happy Birthday Georgia!". I remember seeing you whisked by me and then there you were and we were rolled to the recovery room and you found your way to my breast and then we were connected. I remember just holding you through the entire experience. You and me, two teachers for each other. You and me, holding onto each other as we rode the waves. Life is easy and then it's hard and then it's pure joy and then it's ground shaking despair. I hope to teach you how to ride the waves of this life, always maintaining your center. Always being true to yourself as you navigate the journey.
I'm sitting here in my empty classroom eating McDonald's oatmeal with a knife researching under-eye concealers. It's a laughable moment and one that I approach with a feeling of appreciation. I have a lot of quirks which much of the general public views as wacky and having a 10 month old tends to shine the spotlight on them with a laser light focus. I guess I hope Georgia sees me as resourceful rather than wacky. Oh Georgia. I realize there was life before you but it feels like it was a half-full cup and you came and filled it to the brim. Now, I try my best to be whole for you as you grow but, in the end, it's our imperfections that let in the most light. Your Mom is not the quickest person at acclimating to changes. I mean, I had the same car for almost 18 years and just keep getting the same sandals year after year rather than going for something new (by the way, thanks Target). It took me probably 10 months to get my rhythm. I'm still getting used to the fact...
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