A year ago tonight, I was laboring intensely and quickly in preparation for the birth of my Cadence.

At 8:27, while watching House DVDs, and after having timed 5 contractions...  My water broke.  I was shaking and completely nervous, but I tried to stay calm.  I got myself cleaned up, got my hospital bags ready, and then went back to watching House while I cuddled with Mark and Amaris.  It was a nice, peaceful time, but a little after 10 I decided it was time to go.  Mark and I left Amaris with the neighbors and headed off to the hospital.  I don't remember much of the ride there except looking up just in time to see Mark stop at a yellow light - come on, seriously!  Yellow lights in Japan mean "Go for it!"  There is a two-second rule here, which basically says that once the light turns red, you've got two seconds to get through the intersection.  Everybody knows that.  :)

I had my eyes closed almost the entire way there, and when we arrived at the hospital, a Navy Corpsman was waiting for me with a wheelchair in the lobby.  Mark parked the car and we all rode up in the elevator together.  I can't say I was very chatty.

The nurses kept me in triage for what felt like an eternity, but finally they confirmed that I definitely was in labor (not like I could fake it), and admitted me to a labor and delivery room.  Being the only delivering mother at the time meant I had first pick of the available rooms, and naturally I took their most posh "suite".  (Mind you, this is a Naval Hospital.  "Posh" pretty much means I had my own bathroom.)

While waiting for an Obstetrician to check me, I was poked about a thousand times by the staff nurses trying to insert my IV catheter.  It took them forever, and it was a huge battle because during my intense contractions, I involuntarily curled up into a tight, sideways ball in my bed, gripping the siderails till my knuckles were white.  Finally they got it in and I made several trips to the bathroom to relieve my bladder.  Eventually the OB made his way in and attempted to check my cervix.  That was undoubtedly the most painful pelvic exam of my life.  After about two minutes of him trying to gauge my progress, I involuntarily kicked the poor guy away and told him he had to stop.  Unable to determine my actual status, he made up my numbers to the nurses - "I'd say about.. uh, 75% effaced... 3-4 cm dilated... and the baby's at about a... 0." - and asked them to have the Anesthesiologist come up to administer my much anticipated epidural so that he could check me again.

I made another trip to the bathroom against the advice of the nurses, poor Mark had to help me to and from the bathroom all those times.  I could feel an immense pressure and I was sure it was Cadence's head.  I was careful not to push - I certainly didn't want to deliver her on the toilet.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, an Anesthesiologist came in and started rambling on to me about the procedure.  He kept taking big pauses in his speech so that I'd acknowledge hearing and understanding what he was saying.  What I wanted to say was, "I've done this before, can you PLEASE just give me the drugs!"  But my body was too tight to make that sort of complete sentence.

All at once, I felt something happening, and I interrupted the Anesthesiologist.  I said, "I can feel her head."  He looked at me like I was insane, and then kept talking.  I said, "SOMETHING IS COMING OUT OF ME."  He stopped talking again, and a nurse ran over.  She threw back my sheets just in time to see Cadence and yelled, "Oh!!  BABY!  BABY!"  Every staff member on the labor and delivery floor ran into my room, the OB being the last one through the door, throwing on his lab coat as he crossed the thresh hold.  Cadence was already here - having arrived promptly at 1:01AM on February 3 - laying beside my legs on the bed.  Purple-skinned and squirmy, but quiet.  She's always been sort of peaceful like that.

Despite my best efforts to keep her in long enough to enjoy that epidural, Cadence had other plans.  I delivered her quickly and aside from the pain, rather effortlessly.  I didn't push, I didn't struggle through my labor for hours on end the way that I did with Amaris.  Cadence was born easygoing and has continued to be that way, for the most part, throughout this first year of her life.

Looking back, I am sentimental, of course.  The year, as all mothers say on their child's first birthday, has flown by.  I barely recognize the sleepy-eyed newborn in the photos we took following her birth, but my heart swells with pride and love all the same.  She is an active, personality-filled, bouncing, beautiful, sweet girl now.  Soft brown head of hair, long eyelashes, chubby cheeks, button nose, deep, expressive eyes, and absolutely CRAZY about her big sister...  She's wonderful.

And now, she's one.