Danaka’s Birthday

Danaka just turned 15.


I, reminisce….. (skip it if you don’t like birth stories.  I personally LOVE them!  But this is short)

She announced that she was soon to arrive by ruining my appetite for turkey dinner.  While the final dinner preparations were being taken care of, I was sprawled on the couch with an empty ice cream bucket resting beside me ‘just in case’.

Hours later Everette and I slowly made our way up our long driveway in the snow that had been falling for days, requiring us to have to park our van at the top of our 5 acres.  Many fits & starts, including  impromptu potty breaks (labouring women know all about that one!) we finally waddled up to the van, blanketed in the snow of a White Christmas.  Off to the hospital we went, slowly but surely.

Arriving at 11:30pm we were quizzically asked “Are you having a Christmas baby?”

Not likely, at this hour.  Didn’t leave me much time.

We bunkered down, just one of many other labouring women.  I got the last bed available, in a shared room, just a curtain separating 2 women in the intimacy of labouring & birthing.

Ummm, off to the deep bath I went.  A room to myself (and Everette).

While the rest of the women laid in their beds with their pains (and likely some drugs) I soaked, and opened, and was the first to deliver.  I had gotten out of the tub for a potty break, and should have probably gotten back in & refused to get out, but I wasn’t that woman , yet!

The nurses panicked that I would deliver on the bathroom floor, but instead I delivered her head in the hallway (on a gurney) and the rest of her in a delivery room.  02:04 am.  All 10 lbs 4 ozs of her, nourished (??) on Nanaimo bars and eggnog.  Afterall, she was basically a Christmas baby, slowly baked.

Fortunately, Danaka & I went home the following day, or we would have gotten stuck at the hospital. We had the worst snowfall of 75 years.  Instead, we got to snuggle in our forested home with woodstove heat, and no running water due to power-outage.  But when living on babymoon, one overlooks those inconveniences.  Who really cares?

Our Danaka had arrived, safely.

Now she’s blossoming before our very eyes.  Inquisitive, intelligent, internally questioning how to maneuver through these years between childhood and adulthood….. she’s forging out her own identity.

We love you, Danaka.


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