Two Pivotal Moments in My Life

Published on Nov 4, 2020

First Major Turning Point in My Life

The day I left for Portland, Oregon to go into the Airforce. I remember saying goodbye to my mother and crying. I knew that everything was changing, and I could not go back. My mother was essentially pushing me out of the nest and into the world. I was on the bus, looking out the window at her, and waved at her with tears in my eyes. She was tight-lipped, not crying, and waved back. I now understand that she most likely cried later. Maybe as soon as she got into her car. However, she did not want me to see her cry and was staying strong. For me. That was my mother. The strong one. Always. I remember being terrified and thinking I was not ready but knowing I could not do anything but go forward and continue this journey. My life was changing forever and drastically. I was right. It did. My life was never the same again. Thankfully. It was what I needed to grow up. I think we both knew I would not be able to if I stayed home, no matter what I did while living at home. Her grip on me was too tight. My need for her was too strong. I was a momma’s girl. No doubt about it.

Second Major Turning Point in My Life

The day Alexandra was born. The entire day and evening. They did not believe me when I told them my water broke hours prior to her being born. The nurse said I must have wet my own bed. I demanded she smell the bed as proof that I had not. But she would not and continued to stay firm in her assumption. The reason they were firm in believing my water had not broken? I was bone-dry down there. Their litmus test came back dry. Later it was discovered the reason the test was dry was because Alex had dropped suddenly at the time my water broke. Her head corked the bottom hard, closing it off completely so that no fluid was detectible. Except for that in my bed. This was about 11am. Around 3pm, the contractions started coming and I finally decided it might be labor. By 4:30pm, the doctor finally checked up on me and confirmed I was 2 centimeters. He would check on me later. By 5:30pm I was really in labor and they were wheeling me away. I asked about an epidural. Too late, they said. I was already too dilated. Not fair! I had done my part and tried to tell that dumb nurse hours earlier that my water had broken. Did not matter. Things had progressed too far. I was in it all the way, no pain medication and my contractions decided that they would not act like the usual roller coaster. Instead, they were one long stream of contractions one right after another. Doctor and nurses confirmed my body was not getting the normal break between contractions. Soon into the worst of it, I could no longer breath well; I was not getting enough oxygen. Which meant Alex was not getting enough oxygen. They attempted to put a mask on me, and I shoved it away angrily. They informed me this was not about me but instead was about the oxygen-deprived baby inside of me and would I PLEASE put the mask on and leave it on NOW? I agreed immediately and did as I was told from that point on. I was so exhausted. It was a blur from that point to when she was born. Despite the unbearable pain, eventually all I wanted to do was sleep. But, no, push, they said. Push! Why wouldn’t she come? She was corked. Eventually, she came out! In a huge swoosh! A ton of water behind her from when she was corked. It gushed and sent her flying out with the doctor almost dropping her! Her entry into the world was via slip and slide! As only mother nature can do. Immediately they looked at her, then placed her on my bare chest while the umbilical cord was still attached. I was amazed. Wordless. Mesmerized. She was quiet. Dark curly hair and bright blue eyes and looking at me intently. I was intimidated. My own newborn. After a few moments of this intense exchange between mother and daughter, they whisked her away for the standard check of 10 toes and 10 fingers. She was cleaned up, checked out, and wrapped up beautifully. I got frustrated, wondering what was taking them so long and when would I get to hold my daughter again. I am sure it was only a few moments, but it felt like hours. Eventually, I was allowed to hold that little goddess again. We resumed our intense staring contest. I became uncomfortable as my own insecurities about motherhood started to arise. I kept imagining she was thinking “Can this woman care for me? Is she about to take care of me and do what she needs to do? Is she up for the job? Really? Her” I just kept thinking these kinds of thoughts repeatedly the next 24 hours as I kept projecting my insecurities into my daughter as her possible thoughts. Logically, I knew this was not happening. But these were my fears. When we arrived at home, I laid her on the bed and kissed her all over the face. Just kept telling her repeatedly how much I loved her and how I would always love her forever. I have kept that promise and will never break it.