Today was the due date I was telling everyone for 9 months. The official due date was June 23rd, but I knew I'd go early, obviously my math is slightly flawed.
Going for 3 to 4 children has been much less of an adjustment then going from 2 to 3. Quinn has been nicely assimilated into our family and my recovery has been amazing. I feel great, well except for looking like Wonder Woman and not feeling much like wearing the armored bustier. (milk production is in full force.)
The kids cannot handle Quinn's cuteness. They pretty much have to be within 5 inches of his face and either touching his hands and feet or kissing his head every second they are home.
It takes me time to process an experience as intense as childbirth, so I will add my thoughts as they come. Moments of insight into my own experience come to me when I'm in the shower, nursing Quinn, talking with Hans and friends, emailing. At times they come as flashes, and sometimes the memory lingers. Today I told Hans, "I don't think I was in my right mind when I asked for an epidural." I'd gone drug free with the last 3 children and I remember each time wanting to give up and go to the hospital and make the pain go away. But I've pulled or should I say pushed through.
This process of remembering in small bursts is similar to my actual labor process. During labor I kept my eyes closed tightly, waiting for the next contraction, recovering from it, focusing on how I'd handle and position myself for the next one, resting. When I'd open my eyes, there was Hans, well-kept and smiling with calm and encouraging words, while I was sweaty, tired, and bedraggled. It was comforting to just have him close. In a way, he looked like he was glowing, in contrast to the darkness of my tightly closed eyes. Having Hans there helped to provide brief periods of clarity as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. And an understanding of the full journey has been unwrapped in my mind, through small memories.