Atalaya

Atalaya in her new American Apparel sustainable edition Tiger git-up.
photos by Terry Richardson

Day Four.

Birth.

Tuesday July 21st, I get a call at work from Nicole, she is sick and needs me to come home. Naturally, I am worried, she is 10 days overdue. I arrive to the house at 3:00pm, call the midwife and let her know how sick Nicole is. She tells me that this may be the cleansing before labor, to monitor it and call her in an hour to see how things are going.
By 6:50 Nicole is experiencing contractions. We agree on a signal of her flashing her hands repeatedly to let me know she is contracting so I can time them. Tanja, our midwife, arrives around this time, and checks Nicole's vitals. Nicole is no longer sick really, but the contractions are coming on so strong and so fast that Tanja decides to stick around and see how quickly this advances.
Nicole is dilating rapidly. She flashes her hands while grabbing mine and squeezing, she is really handling it nicely. The contractions continue as an ominous and overdue storm sweeps in. We had not had rain in over a month, and this storm was such an amazing blessing! It brought with it much needed rain and cooled the summer desert air. All of this on one of the most auspicious nights for another century, the longest solar eclipse until the year 2100.
There we are, the screen doors blowing, winds howling, and rain pouring--all as people, worldwide, bare witness to a celestial phenomenon of cosmic proportions--all while, the stars align, the oceans glow and fade, the moon eats the sun--and all as, Nicole, looks at me and says " I'm ready to push."
It's around 10pm now, Tanja calls our doula, Myriah, and lets her know what is happening and to come on over. . . this may be it. We fill the birth pool in the living room, light the candles and set the mood. Nicole has been working with the contractions for 3 hours. She has been breathing and writhing, contracting and releasing. Upon every contraction, she squeezes my hands, looks me in the eyes and breathes deep and complete--each breath getting us closer to meeting our new friend.
By the time the tub is full, Nicole is really ready to push. We get her to the birth pool, she enters and begins moaning, deep and complete. Tanja puts her hand on Nicole's vagina and tells her to push into her hand. Nicole pushes. . . once. . . twice. . . three times. . . "keep pushing, push through this one," Tanja says.
The pushing continues for about two hours. A two hour labor. Unheard of.
During the pushing, I hear a family of coyotes outside, crying and wailing to the mystical mother moon eating the summer sun.
A few moments later, Nicole gives a deep push, Tanja asks for the time, "12:12."
The head is out. The crown is in the water.
With three final, powerful pushes. . . the baby is out.
At 12:12am, July 22, 2009, our first child, Atalaya Trita Smith, was born into a warm and loving home. She swam through Nicole's body, into a glowing soft candlelit midnight.
Welcome Home Atalaya, Welcome Home.

Waiting...

It's official. My last day of work was Friday and now I'm here, at home, waiting. Anxiously waiting. I can tell that 'things' inside of me are starting to shift. Last night, as I was getting into bed and reaching for my book I let out a huge 'nervous' laugh that seemed to have erupted from the deepest part of my being. I felt all giddy and tingly...until I started reading, which puts me to sleep almost immediately.

This morning it happened again. I woke up before Keenan's alarm went off because my body felt like butterflies were flying rampant throughout it. It's not typical for me to wake up bright-eyed and certainly not anxious. After a small cup of coffee (yup, coffee) and a buttery croissant (yum), I wouldn't say I feel grounded, but I do feel a bit more solid.

I'm in the in-between of could-have-a-baby-any-day-now and could-have-a-baby-in-another-week-or-so. Yikes. There's a lot of room for thumb twiddling in that timeframe! To Do Lists are becoming my best friend. There's always the small pile crafting projects I've started, yet never mustered the discipline to finish....or the fridge to clean out....

Keenan and I did a little avant-garde crafting this weekend....in the form of body sculpture. We did a belly mold of my very pregnant self. So, here I am in all of my big-body glory.......