I finally got to meet my little Peanut, Avery James, on Aug. 21 at 2:37pm. As a writer, it's not often that I'm at a loss for words, but trying to describe the experience of helping my daughter through labor and the birth of her child leaves me struggling. How do you describe an event that is so horribly painful, frightening, beautiful and wonderful all at the same time?
I've given birth to three children, but nothing could ever have prepared me for seeing one of those children give birth to her own child. And even though I've had three children, not once did I ever see any of them leave my body and enter into the world. So to be on this side of the table, so to speak, was a brand new experience.
I really don't want to share too much about Amanda's childbirth experience because honestly, it's her story to share, not mine. All I can really say is that I feel that my skills as a parent were pushed to their extreme limits as I struggled to keep from being overwhelmed by the fear and helplessness that I felt as I watched Amanda go through her labor, knowing that, no matter how much I wanted to take that pain from her, I couldn't. In the end, all I could do was stand there and rub her back, hold her hand, breathe with her through her contractions and try not to break down
front of her when she cried out "Mommy, I can't do this anymore. Please make it stop hurting. I can't do it." All my efforts seemed so insignificant in comparison to what her labor put her through.
I will never forget seeing Avery making his entrance into the world. Feeling his tiny fingers curled around mine, just minutes after his birth, my heart swelled with love and joy knowing that I will be a part of his world for the rest of my life.
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