Descriptive Essay; My Daughter’s Birthday

Published on by JP Honor

I was nine months pregnant and my belly was twice as full after eating thanksgiving dinner a few days earlier with the family. “One more trip to the doctor.” I thought to myself as I relaxed in my last few hours of pregnancy. My doctor had told me that if I did not go into labor by the next morning she was going to induce me into labor. I had heard that this was a painful process and admittedly, I was scared. Understanding my discomfort with the induction process, my doctor gave me a tip. She told me to go home, eat some greasy food, drink a beer, make love to my husband, and I would go into labor. So on doctor’s orders I did just that. The pizza was delicious, all dripping with grease and cheese. I drank about three quarters of a wine cooler and then hopped into bed with my honey. We were asleep by 10:30pm.

At 12:30am, I woke up suddenly. Had I just felt a contraction? I laid in bed waiting in the darkness for another stab of pain. Sure enough about ten minutes later a lightning bolt shot across my lower abdomen. I could not believe it; the doctor’s tip had worked! I turned over and shook my husband, “Jimmie, wake up! I’m in labor!” He moaned and rolled over in bed. I shook him again but harder this time, “Wake up!” I hollered. This time it worked and he sat up wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Are you sure?” He asked me. I was sure. I had never felt pain like this before in my life. Jimmie got up from the bed and walked out into the darkness of the kitchen to retrieve the phone. When he came back into the room, he was already on the phone with my doctor. The news was bleak; I would have to wait until my contractions were steadily five minutes apart or less. So far my contractions were coming one every fifteen minutes to a half hour. It was not until four o’clock the next morning that I finally got the ok from my doctor to come in.

Within minutes of our arrival to the hospital, I was in a room and made as comfortable as possible by the nurses.  I had not slept since my contractions had begun so my doctor gave me some medication to help me sleep some before my labor began. In and out of consciousness, I lingered until eleven o’clock that morning. Suddenly I realized everyone was talking to me. They were telling me I needed to push. “Is this a practice run?” I thought to myself, still half-asleep. At this time I was administered an epidural with a needle so big that the sight of it almost made my husband pass out. The pain of the needle into my spine was a godsend. I knew that this meant the waves of pain from my contractions would now be at the very least bearable. By this time, my sister-in-law Heidi had shown up with my two best friends, Joy and Katey. My husband of course was also in the room, which including the hospital staff, brought the head count to nine. As Jimmie held onto my left leg for dear life, I bore down with everything I had in me. Heidi, Joy and Katey were all in tears by this point, which for the life of me I could not understand. I was the one giving birth, I should be crying. I pushed and pushed and pushed some more until it felt like my eyeballs were going to fall right out of my head. “Please get it out of me!” I yelled in frustration. It was not very much longer until I got what I wanted. At eight past noon our daughter, Jaedyn Pamela-Marie Denmark, was born. When the doctor laid her on my chest and I looked at her beautiful face for the first time, my eyes welled up with tears. Jaedyn was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen in my life. From that moment on my life has never been the same.    

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