Three

My due date was one year ago today, and it’s making me dizzy just thinking about how different this Dec. 17 is from last year’s. I can’t believe it’s already been a year. Have I mentioned that yet? Yeah, subtility is not my strong point.

I know that I was growing increasingly uneasy about the prospect of giving birth, considering the fact that I could balance a whole bowl of soup on the top of my belly. I was all about doing it with no drugs, and I knew it was going to hurt. So, the days leading up to the actual birth, I was in tears almost every night, because knowing you are going to experience something very painful very soon does not really put you in the holiday spirit.

Of course, I could have never known just how very painful labor really is. You never do, I guess, until you’re puking on hospital bed, wondering why they never tell you about that in all of those goddamn pregnancy books.

Anyway. Today was my due date – or, better said, Harper’s – and she didn’t come. But come she did, three days later.