Still in My Head

A memory has haunted me.
I've cried myself to sleep more times than I'd like to admit.
But it's one I hope to never forget, and so I'll put it here.

6 April 2007


Neither of us had slept the night before.
Ben was too excited to meet the third member of our little family.
I had spent the night wishing, hoping, and praying for spontaneous labor. I had tried everything and this baby wasn't coming out on her own. A c-section was certain.

When we got there, he wanted to take one last picture of my profile with my enormous belly. He told me to smile, and laughed as he snapped the photo. (I now understand why. Despite my efforts, I couldn't mask the look of terror on my face.)

Why wouldn't my body just do what it was supposed to?
Was I taking the easy way out?
Was this a big mistake?
What if I waited just 7 more days?
Ugh, did I really have to wear that frumpy hospital gown?

I remember watching Ben put on his haz-mat attire, thinking he had this so easy. I envied him. Why did he get to have a baby without needing to undergo some sort of surgery, too?

Walking into the OR felt like walking death row. They wouldn't let Ben go in with me. All I wanted was for him to be the one holding my hand while they finished prepping me.

And then Ben walked in and sat in a chair near my head. He cupped my face in his hands. He told me that the curtain was too low as he leaned in next to me, and rested his cheek next to mine; left hand still stroking my right cheek.

The surgery started and then I heard the Doctor say, "Ginny, are you ready for this?! You're going to be a mom real soon!"

And then we heard what we had waited for; our baby's first cry. It was strong and clear and more beautiful than we could have ever imagined. Simultaneously we started crying together. Ben wet my face with his tears as he quietly repeated, "Mama! That's our little girl! She's our little girl!"

I heard one of the nurses call out, "She looks good! She's really cute! 8 pounds, 11 ounces!!"
The other doctor said, "That's what I was going to guess when we got her out. 8, 11..."
My doctor reassured me, "Ginny, that was the best decision you could have made."

And then Ben was sitting in that chair next to me, holding Jocelyn, and still weeping tears of joy. I remember him saying, "She is so beautiful. You did such a good job, Mama. Thank you for our little Jocee."



Ben continued to hold Jocee for nearly the remainder of that day. He left the hospital only to sleep, and stayed with us for the majority of our stay.
I couldn't have asked for a better daddy for our girls.