Honeydew and I rolled over in the gray, predawn light and beamed at each other this morning.  We’ve managed to keep our firstborn alive for an entire year.

And what a year it has been.  Today, I’m using the blog to capture a few details of Maggie’s arrival, because everyone knows that I can barely remember my own name from week to week, and if I don’t write these down Maggie Rose might never know that despite her adoration of Daddy, she was a Mama’s girl in the beginning, resisting three separate rounds of inducement and electing to remain in the womb far beyond her due date of Friday, May 13.

Eventually, her amniotic fluid levels plummeted, and I was admitted to the hospital for the inducements.  I paced the halls restlessly for almost three days before her arrival, admiring the sparkling May sunshine beyond the windows and wishing It’ll, as we called her then, were there to enjoy it with me.  When she did finally deign to begin the journey to oxygen and double cheeseburgers, I bounced on an oversize yoga ball and then floated in a warm tub, fascinated by the strength of the contractions, confident in my body’s abilities.

Hours slipped by, and it was time to push, the most instinctual, primal feeling I have ever known. I closed my eyes and pictured myself step-step-breathing up Mt. Siyeh, finally grasping the legal concept of the Rule Against Perpetuities  at 2:30am during finals, recovering from a miniature panic attack on a open ledge on Mt. Clements and continuing to the top.  I knew I had the grit, the determination, the strength.  Honeydew and Dr. Bowden announced they could see Maggie’s head, and I glanced at the clock and realized that the morning sunlight had turned to inky darkness.

But still she did not come.

And then, just before midnight, Dr. Bowden took my hand and looked at me with her quiet confidence, letting the silence speak for itself.  “Are we out of options?” I asked with a hitch in my voice.  And she said yes, that I had labored long enough that she was concerned for It’ll and for me, that It’ll’s head was just too big, and that she wanted to perform a c-section, the one possibility of labor that I had feared and dreaded.

Twenty minutes later, Maggie was pulled from my lower abdomen, and under the weight of the anesthesia pinning my lungs to the icy operating table, I struggled to put all the conviction I had left in me into my voice.  “What is it?”

“It’s a … it’s a … it’s a girl!”  Honeydew exclaimed, in sheer wonder, gazing over the blue sheet separating me from my lower body, and my baby.

And so you were, Maggie Rose.

You have made this past year the most exhausting, magical year of my life.  Daddy and I would not trade you for all the coffee in South America, even on days that you are teething.

Happy first birthday, Maggie Rose!

2012.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

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