A new US citizen

On November 3, Mark called one of his coworkers to report his absence and left this little message:

"Hi. I'm just calling to make an appointment for an immigration consultation. I have a baby that was born in the United States, and I am wanting to know how long I have to wait before she can petition for me to get papers. I don't know if this part is important, but she was born today at 6:32am, and she weighed 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and was 19 1/2 inches long. So, if you could call me back I would really appreciate it."

Here's the new little U.S. citizen herself, Lily Jean Williams:


After a week and a half of false labor, I wasn't sure what to think when I woke up a few times early Monday morning with cramping. At 4:15am I got up to take a bath, but got deterred reading a few online articles about false labor. Around 4:30, I realized that the cramping was getting more regular, so I began to record these little contractions. After 9 minutes my paper read: 4:30, 4:33, 4:36, 4:39. Suddenly the early morning haze cleared, as I employed my superior math skills to determine that this was true labor, and I rushed to wake up Mark (and pack my hospital bag...oops).

We called a neighbor to come over, and I showered quickly, because I'm vain. I even attempted to put in my contacts, and dab on some makeup. (Because, hello, in what other 48 hour time period will I ever have so many pictures taken of me? And, because I looked retarded in my immediate post-delivery pics from rounds 1 and 2, but those pictures are off-limits for deleting.) Alas, my vanity was in vain, because not only did I not get the contacts in, but we also forgot my entire hospital bag in our haste to leave. No pictures at all. No documentation of my frazzled state. Not a bad plan, actually.

We forgot the toiletries, clothes and camera, but I did NOT forgot to grab my absentee ballot as I was walking out the door. Mark got the car and met me at the mailbox where I jammed in those blue envelopes (between contractions) and climbed in for a painful ride.

We arrived at the hospital, where I tried to tell everyone in sight that I had fast labors, in hopes of getting an epidural going ASAP. But at 5:00am, everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion, and at 6:00am, I was still waiting (not so patiently) for that epidural and for the nurse to finish her "paperwork" and notice that I was in transition. The anesthesiologist finally showed up with sleepy sand in his eyes, and gave me an epidural in what he later called "the wrong spot." The results: no numbness whatsoever....and just in time to push out the baby.

Can we take a break from this self-centered monologue and allow me to apologize for all this information about ME?!?!? It makes me feel like this music video.

Okay, now back to me. My doctor gave me a pudenal block right before I began to push, which was a blessing (although I never thought I would call 5 shots to "that" region a blessing). Five pushes later, at 6:32am, Lily Jean Williams took her first breath.

I want to sound like a loving and great mother from the first second, but to be honest, I didn't have much interest in the baby once she was out. I was happy to let Mark be her parent (and grateful for the first--but not only time--that she has another parent.) In the meantime, I retrained myself in the art of breathing normally and congratulated myself on having survived my second "ring of fire" and for not having kicked any doctors in the face--a distinct urge I had during Eliza's natural birth two years ago. It doesn't sound very complimentary to myself, but I needed some time before I was ready to be compassionate, attentive and loving to the new baby that had just ripped out my body. (Literally, ripped.) I felt the same way when Eliza was born (a natural birth), but I didn't feel that way with Sage (an epidural birth).

I am so glad Lily is a part of our family. When we drove home from the hospital (all 5 of us squished in our little Subaru), it just felt right and good. I look forward to bonding more with Lily (no doubt she has some late night sessions planned for us), and growing to love her more each time she snuggles up on my shoulder and falls asleep. And each time I get to smell her fresh out of the bath. And each time she grabs my finger in her little grasp, and I realize how much she needs me, and how much I need and love her. Welcome to the United States, Lily, and to our family.