She's Here!

Isabella Rose made her appearance at 5:05 PM on Thursday. She is a beautiful, well developed, healthy baby girl.

But I have to say this. I was not prepared at all. Not one bit. I wanted to be there with Ashley when she was born, but I was not prepared for the sheer emotional stress that comes with bringing a new life into this world. I've had children before, but to actually witness it is something completely different.

They induced her at around 6:30 or 7, even though it was supposed to be 6. By 10:30, Ashley was in a lot of pain but was taking it like a trouper. At 11:30, they called the anesthesiologist in to give her the epidural. She was very uncomfortable. They kicked me out of the room while they did this, so I waited for about a half an hour until I could come back in. Just as I was walking in the room, one of the nurses was checking her and yelled for her partner to come check Ashley's cervix too. "I'm not sure, but I think she just dilated out all the way," she said. My heart started pounding. That was awful fast..maybe an hour or less. The other nurse checked her and agreed that she had dilated out in a manner of minutes. Then there was a flurry of activity while the baby warmer was brought in with another table full of instruments. In the meantime, Ashley was moaning and crying and I just felt awful that there was nothing I could do to make it better. When she began pushing, Ricky and I were instructed by the nurses to hold her legs up and spread them for her so she could concentrate on pushing. She pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed. In between contractions I mopped her face with a cool washcloth and tried to give her encouragement, but I could tell she was winded and weak. Eventually, after four hours of pushing, they wheeled her off to the operating room for a C-section. I took the much needed break time to smoke and try to rest. For hours and hours I had been at her side, coaching her, feeling helpless as she cried and moaned and begged for painkiller, stroking her hair, talking to her in a low voice, and trying to coach her through her contractions. As I sat outside on the bench, smoking, I tried to calm myself. I have never, ever felt so EMOTIONALLY SPENT in my LIFE. It wasn't a bad feeling at all. I just felt like a washcloth, all wrung out. When I got in my car that night to drive home, I was so overcome by emotion that I cried all the way there. I have never experienced anything like it.

Ricky went in with her and showed us the baby after she was born. She was beautiful and red, with a full head of brown hair, just as I predicted. She has her mother's lips and my nephew's long fingers. She is absolutely beautiful.

We were not allowed to hold her until she was two hours old, so I ordered some food and ate fast, since I hadn't eaten anything all day. I was forced by circumstance to visit with my mean, drunk sister but she left me alone while I was eating. When the two hours was up, Ricky came in, looked right at ME, and said, "If you want to hold her now, you can come and visit Ashley in the recovery room, but only one person at a time is allowed." I looked over at my mean drunk sister and said, "Nah..why don't grandma go first? I can wait." Ricky shot me a look of gratitude and even Mean Drunk said, "Thank you, Sondra," like I was in charge of the entire affair. (I know. I'm bossy. And when Mean Drunk walked out of the room, I mumbled under my breath, "Yeah, go ahead, because she's coming home with me.") LOL!

When I finally got to hold her, I couldn't take my eyes off of her beautiful face. I cannot describe how I felt at the moment. I FELT LIKE THE WORLD'S BIGGEST ASSHOLE.

If you go back to the archives in my journal, you will read about how much I hated Ashley. I wanted nothing to do with her. I also said I wanted nothing to do with "that baby." And I meant it and stuck to it for several months, completely avoiding her and not speaking to her at all and pretending that she wasn't even pregnant. One night, while I was talking to Ricky on the phone, he made a comment about Ashley and the baby, saying exactly this: "I know you want to be there for the baby and stuff when she's born, like you were with Timothy." And for some reason, that struck a cord in me because up until that moment, I didn't. I felt that by getting pregnant, Ashley was trying to replace Timothy with this new baby that I didn't want. I wanted Timothy and no other baby. Not to mention that Anne, Timothy's mother, isn't around partially because of Ashley. So every time I saw her, I thought of that. And it made me resent her even more.

Suddenly, something clicked and I realized I was being a big fucking jerk. I was ashamed of myself for being such a bitch. Whether or not Ashley got pregnant in an attempt to "replace" Timothy didn't matter. What mattered is that there was a baby on the way, Ashley's mother wasn't happy about it, and there was no support coming in from anyone. So I stepped in and wrote Ashley a letter explaining myself (I don't have to mince words with her) and apologizing for being such an asshole. She wrote me back immediately, basically saying, "I understand how you feel. It's okay. We'll live with it. Forget about it." And, amazingly, I did.

So as I was holding this precious little baby in my arms, I felt like God should strike me dead for ever wishing her existence away. She was perfect and tiny and helpless and very loveable.

I learned a very valuable lesson from this and I am so glad I listened to my heart and stepped in when I did. I am grateful to Ashley for not holding a grudge against me, which she could easily do. I am glad I opened my home to her and got to know her a little better. Besides, there is no such thing as vanity when someone is holding your legs above your head.