We picked my daughter up at the airport last night. As she settled into the back seat, babbling non stop about her clubbing in L.A., the vegan crepe she ate, the beaches, the men that are like animals, and the insensitivity of the airport security people I noticed that the entire time my husband was listening intently. Out of the corner of my eye, he was turned around in his seat, interjecting brief questions whenever he could. As I wove through a myriad of flashing brake lights, and cars emerging out into my lane with careless abandon, I became increasingly aware of this almost zen-like calmness existing right beside me . As I wave lamely to the angry, airport security guy, I hear in patches that he is patiently redirecting her, asking her directly about her friend, and the whole reason for her southern California trip, her recent job interview .
I just had to laugh as I remembered my 36 hour labor with Emma. Who even then would not cooperate and do what she was supposed to do. I had a fever, I couldn't get past 9.5 cm and my doctor chuckled, " She is busy. She doesn't want to come out tonight." Quickly a Caesarian was decided.
Sweating, delirious, and unbelievably exhausted, I finally surrendered. My husband saw her first. The sheet up, oblivious in my white world of pain I heard that same calm voice out of nowhere. "Awe, hon it's a girl."
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