Happy Birthday Viola!

At 6:09 this morning, Viola turned 2 years old. She was oblivious, of course, still in that blissful state of ignorance that goes away much too quickly. We could see she got the idea that something special was in the air as she was wished "Happy Birthday" and given hundreds of kisses by her sisters.

She got presents - books, a wooden toy and assorted cat paraphernalia (she loves cats) including this fantastic cardboard cat that Giulia and Paloma made for her.


Seeing her sweet and joyful face today, I had to reflect on how she came into this world and while those 9 months she spent hanging out with me weren't entirely the most peaceful - her birth and subsequent babyhood and now toddlerhood have been nothing but delightful.

The morning of her birth - at around 2:30am, I heard a cry come from the girls' room. Paloma was woken up by a combination of bad dream and illness. Nothing but some gentle words and lots of cuddling could put her right so I spent about an hour with her until she fell back to sleep. At that point, I stumbled back to our bed, rolled over to my side, pulled the covers up and immediately began to feel labor pains. These were no Braxton-Hicks, I knew that this was it. I went out to the living room, walked and labored on my own for about 45 minutes and then at that point, I thought - "I better get Steve out of bed." Steve who sleeps through cries, wails and bumps in the night - was completely oblivious to all that had been happening.

It had taken my mother 8 years to finally come and visit us here in Rome and for whatever reason, she decided that the time to do it would be during the birth of our third child. She never considered it for the first child, nor for the second, so I have no idea what compelled her to finally take action, but it didn't matter to me - my mommy was here! Steve went to wake her as her job was to watch Giulia and Paloma who were still asleep and let them know what happened while he took me to the clinic. It was one of those once in a lifetime moments - my mother standing in the hallway in her robe, sleep and concern in her eyes as she watched me giving in to contraction after painful contraction. I never thought I would share that experience with my mother and it's something I'll never forget.

Steve drove me to the clinic - the same state clinic where I had given birth to Paloma located off the Appian Way - so not really very close to our home, but the closest place where we could have my midwife, Valeria attend the birth. It was 4:30am and the streets of Rome were blissfully free of cars and traffic, but I can honestly say I am so glad that I will never again have to experience contractions while driving over cobblestone - not pleasant!

Once at the clinic, the contractions were coming stronger and closer together. Valeria, my midwife, silently showed up and began preparing the room. Steve sat on a chair and left me to my moaning. He knew the drill. At some point, the extreme nausea came on indicating my own body's reaction to transition and the pushing started. Steve at that point knew he could come close to me without being hit and began stroking my head. I bent over the bed and after just a few pushes - there she came, and Valeria caught her and handed her to me.

What an incredibly victorious feeling! There's nothing like it - this feeling that you have just accomplished this monumental task and you didn't die and you feel fine and the baby is gorgeous and your husband is crying. And there she is, this pasty white, bloody bundle of loveliness - already prepared for snuggling at my breast - the first of many, many such moments.

The sun had just risen and it was that time of the day when you truly feel that all is well in the world, that nothing could possibly be wrong and you wish everyone around you love and peace and joy. The day was one of those magnificent Roman spring mornings - clear, blue skies, birds chirping, green trees outside my window and I got to hold and nurse my one and only Viola. Her birth will reside in my memory as one of the most magical experiences in my life and her birthday will be a yearly remembrance of the closest I ever came, and probably will ever come, to the divine. Thank you, Viola.