Paul turned 3 months old this past weekend, and already some of the details of his labor and delivery are getting fuzzy. Sure, I’m more than willing to forget about the pain and discomfort, but other things I hope to remember forever.
I have a confession to make. Know what I have very little memory of from my birth experience?
Um, I’ll be honest here. I can’t remember much of my husband being there.
When I think back to my labor and delivery, particularly while I was laboring without the help of medication, I don’t remember interacting with him. I mean, I know he was there, I just don’t remember.
It’s been bugging me for a while, the fact that I don’t remember my husband being an active part of my labor. I decide to confess to him my little secret. I thought he would be upset, but fortunately he agreed that he took a bit of a backseat to the whole process. He felt like there wasn’t much he could do for me, other than wait and pray for it all to be over quickly.
He told me that I was very much focused, and in my “own world” that night.
But looking through my birth photos, I have proof he was there. Without a shadow of a doubt, Paul’s dad was at his birth.
Proof my husband attended the birth of Paul:
One of the best things I did was invite my best friend (and fellow Baby’s First Year blogger, Casey) to photograph Paul’s birth. It’s the best gift ever to have so many photos of the whole event to look through whenever I want to recall something. You know, things like remembering that my husband was actually there.
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