It was springtime when one of the best things to ever happen to me occurred – I gave birth to my Sweet Girl, who in return made me a mommy.  I always wanted to be a mother, and I often imagined what it would be like to be pregnant and to deliver a baby.  Of course, I always imagined it to be like the typical Hollywood clip.  I would labor for 3 or 5 hours tops, and then hear the first cries of our daughter as she is placed instantly in my arms with my husband by my side.  I saw it as a new adventure that I wanted to experience, and felt more than ready to conquer.

I experienced my first contraction on the eve of my daughters due date, and I knew that by the next day, we would be holding our new baby.  However, it wasn’t until after an exhausting 40-hours of contractions that went back and forth from 15-minutes to 7-minutes, that I was admitted to the hospital.  My husband, Chris, and I spent the next 8 hours walking the halls, until finally I asked for an epidural.  The baby was face down and in a breech position.

The epidural took my pain away, but it quickly became clear that it was causing the baby’s heart rate to decrease with every contraction.  At this point, my doctor strongly recommended a cesarean section, much to my dismay.

I had skipped that chapter in the pregnancy book, and I was not mentally prepared for it.  I never imagined I would have a cesarean section, and it wasn’t part of my plan.  My heart dropped, and I started to sob.  I was scared for my baby, and for myself.  It was the one time in my life that I felt a personal need for prayers.  I asked Chris to call my father, who had a deep faith in God.  He asked him to pray for us, and I could see the fear in my husband’s eyes when I whispered to him that I was frightened.  His soothing voice, reassuring me of his love, kept me calm through this frightening and unplanned experience.

Thirty minutes later, using her newfound lungs, my Sweet Girl announced her arrival.  After being immediately whisked away for inspection by the neonatologist, she was declared to be in perfect health.  Her daddy was given the honor of holding her first.  Meanwhile, I had begun to shiver so badly from the drugs, that my jaw hurt from biting down.  When Chris brought the baby over for me to see, I could barely focus on her.  I asked him to take her away.  For the next twenty minutes, daddy and daughter bonded.

The doctors finished my surgery, and I was transferred to the recovery room.  The moment I had imagined had finally come, when my baby was put into my arms.  The next hour was spent together as a family, holding the baby, taking pictures, and celebrating her arrival.  I could not stop looking at my Sweet Girl.  She was beautiful.  She was our spring blessing!