And me with the most and best writing material there is!
If you've been following this journal, you know that's when I write least. But here I am and here you are and with my fingers now moving and nothing at all to stop us from the pleasure that is my writing.
Nadia. Oh dear, sweet bundle of life-change.
Where to start?
Hmm. Well, where did I end? St Maarten: ay yes.
Esra. My dear, sweet bundle of pregnant, waddling uncomfortableness. She glowed. Her growing glowing, portable nursery room for one. Belly and feet growing along with the glow. I learned to walk slow (and then slower, and then slower still) and she learned to be frustrated by my inability to walk slower. We waited and dreamt and imagined first-parent dreams about a boy or girl who'd reveal to us what life would soon be like. A family of three. Wow. So many "wow"'s, actually. Pre and Post pregnancy.
We took a six week birthing class.. and then proceeded to forget all of it, in the moment, in the hospital. We (she) labored near home, not knowing if it was 'soon-to-be-active-labor' or the beginning of a potential two weeks of laborious contractions prior to birth. Esra, with mild contractions, and her parents did laundry and ran errands while I worked the art handler job. When I got home, contractions were intensifying, the timing and strength building, trying to match the textbook count of 5-1-1 (5 minutes apart, 1 minute long for at least 1 hour) At 11, I began to see the "ok, it's time" face. At 11:30 we were in her dad's car, bound for St Luke's Roosevelt in Manhattan. Admission, triage, throwing up.. uncomfortableness, heart monitors, beeping, squeaking, sounds from a floor full of new lives manifesting.
Labor, pushing, grunting, squeaking.. everything you'd expect on that front. Of course, it was all new and hyper real to us, in the moment, but I'll spare you the minute to minute details of the birthing room except to say that Esra was a champion mother living the most maternal event a mother can experience and humbleness aside, I've been told (but still love hearing) how I was the perfect birth partner, always present and reassuring, snapping into my nature mandated role of nurturer to wife and baby alike.
At 5:21am on December 1st, 2009 .. baby Nadia Perihan Dayani was given those few last pushes that brought her head, then seemingly forever later, shoulders out, then zip... all of her, out and whisked away for a tune-up and 3-point inspection (it's possible they don't use automotive terms in the delivery room, I'm not remembering that part too clearly right now). As I stood, hovering over the newest and best living creature in the universe (objectively speaking), I saw myself, Esra and our branching family trees of faces and expressions in our little lady. She held my pinkie finger, I stared wide-eyed at the tiniest toes and fingers and nails, little eyelashes and elbows, nostrils, earlobes.
Then the placenta followed. If you've ever seen a live birth and what follows (not the TV version, even with the gunky goo that they might show covering a newborn) you'll most likely know that the placenta is simultaneously amazingly human and shockingly alien. It's something that cant (or shouldn't) be described so I'll just say that I'm honored to have joined the club of those who've seen it and for you to enjoy it when it's your turn.
Once Esra and Nadia were cleaned up and given some time to meet, formally, we were wheeled into the recovery room wing and from there, we stared more, and marveled more, and possibly because we'd been awake for 20+ hours at that point, we sat there stunned, lucid dreaming the most wonderful awake-dream possible for humans.
Two more nights in the hospital for mom and baby and a host of friends and family that came to visit. We received about a hundred well wishes by email, phone, US mail and in person and the feeling that gave us filled up our "We Our Loved" reserves more than I'd ever experienced. All the gifts and cards and such weren't necessary of course, but please know they were soo very much appreciated.
And here we are, 35 days later. A month+ of life-changing joy and fun and (some) frustration, (some) sleeplessness, (some) worry about any and everything, but mostly ... just pure happiness and delight at having helped bring little miss princess pretty chicken (my name for her right now) nadia perihan dayani into the world. We've gone from absolutely no routine, following the whims and wishes of the newest Dayani to slowly developing some .. patterns, let's say.. for feeding, pooping, sleeping and for her current favorite pastime: staring at dark furniture against white background walls. Her face is filling out and now every day, she looks like a slightly different, beautiful, beautiful person. Despite the East Coast cold, we bundle up and take walks, stroll with strollers, hang out and look very interestedly at stuff. So many things are so very fascinating, it seems. It puts 40+ years of looking-at-stuff in perspective when your daughter can lay and stare at a ceiling fan for 20 minutes. I promise, we wont become those parents that live their lives through their kids but right now, it's the most interesting and worthwhile perspective in the universe.
As always (going forward) .. all new Nadia goodness can be found at http://Nadia.Dayani.com
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