Almost Mother's Day

I cherish this photo. It is the final documentation of the pre-mother me. As you can see, I am hugging the soon-to-arrive Baby Maggie and rocking my homemade “KEITH DID IT” smock. I was so wildly happy to be pregnant and couldn’t wait to meet my daughter.

It’s 1973. I am 22 years old. And, yes, those are braces on my teeth (long story).

Thanksgiving was the previous week. Maggie will arrive December 4th. My OB/GYN is my Maid of Honor’s dad, Dr. Ruple (I don’t know why that was never awkward).

In a few days, I will suspect I am in labor by the timing of the contractions. With no discomfort, I won’t be sure it’s really labor. I will be invited to the hospital so they can decide.

Oh, yes! I was in labor. (Amazing. I expected to be screaming, but was surprisingly comfortable).

I cuddled with Keith in the Father’s Lounge. We watched “Star Trek” for quite awhile until they found me and wanted to do an exam.

After the long circuitous journey to my room, there was a great deal of commotion about me walking around. I was dilated 7-8 cm and some sort of rule was broken. (It’s the metric system. Who cares).

Shortly thereafter, I was wheeled to the delivery room, and that is where the earth stopped turning and time stood still. Truly. It seemed everything froze to witness this moment with me. I swear no one was even breathing. Slow motion. Only two pushes. Then she was here - and I was forever changed. A mother at last.

Thank you, Maggie.