Mina: A Birth Story

My daugther, Mina, was born happy and healthy on March 10, 2017. She's a 7 lb, 3oz, 20 inch ball of wonderment with large feet. This is the story of how she got here.

Part I: Conception

It was around 12:30 a.m. on a Sunday, just after a friend's wedding...

Ok just kidding.

Part I: Contractions in the Car. Cartractions.

Our baby's due date was Sunday, March 12th. I was hoping for March 13th because 3/13/17 is all prime numbers, and Daddy don't have a great track record of remembering people's birthdays. Also, I got stuck getting married on 8/16/14, without a lucky odd number to be found (spelling eventual doom for my marriage), so I figured I'd be luckier with my baby girl.

Anyway, she was due on the 12th. As most of you know, due dates are hardly an exact science; and in addition, literally everyone was telling us that most first-borns don't come until after their due date. Doctors, nurses, friends, coworkers, friendly coworkers, priests, rabbis, homeless men on the street...all of them were saying "nahhh she'll be in no rush." Now, because I now have one single anecdotal experience under my belt on the subject, I feel qualified to shout this to any future parents. This is a lie. In real life, your baby will attempt to be born right at the exact moment that you think "ahh let's enjoy a few more nights of sleep and sweet sweet freedom." At least, this is what happened to us. Here's how the journey began.

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Our contractions story is already close to passing into legend, and it goes thusly: Adair was driving home from work on Thursday, March 9th, 2017, high on the anticipation that Friday would be her last day of work, and that she might have a day or two (or even more) to rest, relax, and prepare.

First, Papa Joe called. He himself being a man who is often on the road, my Dad has found that he has a receptive chatting partner in Adair, who during her commute often liked to pass the time in the car by talking with family. Obviously, they talked about how she was feeling, whether she was ready, excited, etc. But Papa Joe happened to have a pretty obvious motive for checking on this baby's progress: he was in Sunriver at a sales conference, scheduled to make it home late on Friday. If the baby came early and/or quickly, he might not be there for her birth. He would be devastated, and Grandma Mary (who I am waivering between calling Moppa Mo, Mormor, and Grandma Mofo) would have been pissed.

Having made it off the phone with my Dad, next Adair called her brother, Uncle Brad. Presumably, they talked about similar subjects; but the melancholy undertone of this conversation was that Brad wasn't going to be able to be there, no matter when the baby was born. He's a busy young man, working hard to pursue his musical goals out in Boston.

Then suddenly, fresh off the phone with her loving bro, Adair feels something in her tummy. No water breaking, no major pain, just what she described as "someone wringing a towel out in my stomach." I had previously tried to reach Adair, but I know now that she was on the phone at the time, so I gave up and hit the gym. When she called me back, I was snippy with her (Adair really truly never answers my phone calls), and I figured we would chat when I got home. 

Once I got home, and as I hopped in the shower, Adair shyly opened the sliding bathroom door and said "Ok good chance I am having some contractions?" Just like that. Very much a question. I paused for a moment, for this reason: The night before, Adair had come into the bedroom and, apparently as a joke, said "Ok I am either going into labor, or that Mexican food really didn't agree with me." The resulting adrenaline shot on that first, jokey time had permanently damaged the receptors in my brain, so this time around my only reaction was "You fuckin' with me?" This time, she was not.

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