The story below is my entry to the Ink Well community's creative non-fiction challenge. I often look at prompts and mull them over for days and days, not coming up with anything to write. But for this prompt, I knew immediately that I would be writing about the best present I ever received, and it was one I gave to myself.
Remember an important gift you received, who gave it to you, and its significance. In your story, describe how it impacted you.
My due date, for my first-born of three, was June 15. My husband and I had decided to use a wonderful place in Manhattan called "The Birthing Center," which was a non-hospital facility staffed by midwives, for the birth. A dear friend of mine, Sylvie, would be our dedicated midwife, and boy was she ever good at what she did. We were golden...
...until the 29th of June, on which day we would be kicked out of the program if I was not in active labor by midnight, and we would be required to go to the hospital for the birth.
June 28 rolled around. No sign of labor yet. I was freaking out. Thirteen days past my due date! Sylvie "stripped my membranes" to promote labor, to no avail. On June 29th, with only hours to go, I started downing castor oil, which is supposed to start labor. I spent that day and evening on the toilet, making regular deposits there while barfing into the tub.
Being pregnant was not fun anymore.
I am living proof that the castor oil trick works. It was nearing midnight when my water broke, and labor started in earnest. We would have been able to birth at the center except for one thing - meconium in my water. The baby had pooped.
The Birthing Center (which seems to be closed now, having been sucked up by hospitals) had many conditions for using their facility. There pretty much had to be zero problems with the birth, and meconium in the water was a disqualifier. At that moment, I had to give up my dream of a natural, non-hospital birth. We hurriedly headed, in the middle of the night, from Brooklyn into Manhattan, to Saint Vincent's Hospital.
By this time, of course, I did not care where I gave birth. I just wanted this baby OUT.
Many people say "All things happen for a reason." I'm not 100% certain there aren't coincidences, but on this night we encountered a big problem, and it turned out to be good we were at the hospital.
After hours of active labor, the doctor said "If you want this child to be able to go to college, it has to come out now." The cord was wrapped around the gender-unknown neck and was choking the baby with each contraction. Had we been at the birthing center, we would have had to rush to the hospital, but as it was, we were already there.
Out she came! Boy was I grateful for that epidural! I had had quite enough. It didn't hurt that the anesthesiologists, two very tall and very identical twin brothers, were also very good looking! (How is it that I remember that after more than 30 years?)
Anyhoo, out she came, a beautiful baby girl. She went on to graduate from an ivy league college with an advanced degree, and is now very successful in my favorite small city, Nashville Tennessee.
Now, you might be wondering how this story relates to the prompt.
My daughter was born on my birthday! She waited 15 days to be born so that we could share the day, year after year. And we do. Year after year one or the other of us travels so that we can be together. It's lovely!
My first born was the best birthday present I ever got.
She was also the last birthday present I got for a very long time. Her birthday always eclipsed mine.
The image is by me