Ophelia Frances

A month ago today, my alarm went off at 3:30am. I scrubbed down in some sort of medical grade anti-septic solution (the third day in a row of showering with this stuff) in preparation to meet you. An order from the doctor to keep us safe.

Your Aunt Erin (and Teddy’s dutiful god mama) came quietly into our house at 4am, to be there for him when he woke up later that morning. Your mom-mom and pop-pop would be arriving shortly after. I left his favorite frozen blueberry waffles for breakfast. I kissed your brother one last time while he slept peacefully, your dad grabbed our bags, I hugged Aunt Erin so hard while I cried.

Sweet girl, I won’t ever lie to you about this. I was scared. So excited to meet you, but so scared to go through another c section.

Our arrival time for pre op prep was 4:30am. Unfortunately I missed the memo that the main entrance to the hospital would be closed then and we’d need to enter the ER. So your dad and I had to walk two blocks to the right entrance after learning this. And as luck would have it, it began to rain on our walk. So we ran with our luggage (as much as a very pregnant lady can run). It felt good in a way before we checked into that very sterile environment. Your dad muttered something about “these details should have been ironed out beforehand”. Get used to that. Me missing silly details and your dad liking order.


The next couple of hours were a wave of emotion. It’s a mind game knowing you’re going into surgery. Though this is the only one that gets a prize on the other side. I told your brother’s birth story to the surgeon, the anesthesiologist, the nurses. It was a heavy thing to carry with me in such a familiar, albeit different setting. I told anyone who’d listen about what went wrong last time and how I’d like it to go this time… and guess what?! They LISTENED!


Two lessons here.
1. We can do hard things.
2. Always advocate for yourself. Your mind, your body, your life. All of it.

I walked into the OR with the kindest nurse, Alycia who held my hand and calmed my fears while the spinal tap was administered. I asked for some medication to relax too, can’t lie. They laid me down, pulled up the drape, your dad walked in and popped in my headphones. The first song on your birth playlist was was Ben Howard, “Old Pine”. And by the second song, Ed Sheeran, “After Glow”, at 8:00am on the dot you came screaming into this world. The nurses announced “it’s a girl and she’s got A LOT of hair!!”. They brought you to my side for a kiss, then over to the warmer to clean you up. You pooped twice. Up to your hair. Then they brought you back over to me and your dad and I held your littlest hand.

I was so relieved I almost took a nap right there on the table.

Your birth was redeeming and healing for me. It was the most peaceful birth.

Before I knew it we were in post op, and that sweet OR nurse dove right in to help you latch while we did skin to skin. The rest is a blur. A lot of snuggling and sleepless nights.

We are the luckiest.