Day One

Lyrics from You Are Your Mother's Child, by Conor Oberst.

I remember the day you appeared on this earth
With eyes like the ocean, got blood on my shirt
From my camera angle it looked like it hurt
But your mama had a big old smile

McDonald's Big Breakfast in the basement of Lucky Plaza. I felt like hotcakes. That was the last meal, and the last Instagram story. Then I checked in at Mount Elizabeth for my scheduled inducement.

At 30 years old, there were few things that I was afraid of. But lying there in a hospital robe with liquids pulsing through my bloodstream, unsure how painful each step would be, I felt like a little girl again. The breaking of the waterbag. The epidural. The catheter. They truly didn't hurt, but the adrenaline from so many unknown quantities was making me silent. The television stayed off the entire time. Still I managed to fall in and out of sleep. When I woke up, k would be hanging over the side of the bed watching my pain levels. When contractions were too hard to bear, I would close my eyes and make him silent too.

Then suddenly it was time to push.
I pushed for one hour, with four nurses pressing onto my belly with horrendous strength, and everyone shaking their heads and shouting at me and saying I wasn't pushing hard enough. K was on my right, patting my head and letting me know I was doing great. He wasn't in hospital robes--that thought just occurred to me.

And then they all stopped shouting. Dr Kek smiled her signature kindly smile and I knew something had changed. They put T in a gooey messy pile on my chest without a word. I had given birth.

Only two seconds, but I made eye contact with this alien creature for the first time. Large slits and bulging eyes, a mass of pink. She started to grimace and struggle, and then-- she cried. And so did I. Later k would ask me, "Just now why did you cry? Was it very painful?" Some men just don't get it.