NINE DAYS WORTH (Part 3)

Enough of the rambling preamble. It's time to get to The Pushing.

Drumroll, please.

Pain. Grimace. Is that her head? Pain. Grimace. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. The sweetest cry.

The End.

Let's face it... those of you that have been there know what it's all about. Those of you that haven't will get absolutely nothing out of me attempting to describe it. Friends pulled me aside and told me what to expect. Told me what I should look forward to and prepared me for what might freak me out. They weren't close. It's not that they communicated poorly... it's that the proper words don't exist in our language.

Here's one thing I can tell you: The moment the nurse put Zoe on Sonja's chest instantly became the most significant and joyous moment of my life. I'll forever be able to flip through my Rolodex of memories and instantly pull out the look on Sonja's face as she looked at her baby for the first time. And the look on Zoe's face as she announced her arrival to the world at 3:18 p.m. on Sunday, April 24. I had done absolutely nothing to that point in the birthing process, but I have never been so proud.

Shortly after that, the parade from the waiting room commenced. Honey and Busia first. Papa and Dziadzia next. Then our sisters, brother-in-law and Sonja's nieces and nephews in groups of threes and fours. I'm pretty sure the Rezler-Honeycutt clan (all of which had travelled through a freak late April snow storm to get there) had taken over the entire third floor of the St. Joe's Family Birthing Center. It was Zoe's introduction to just how loving her family will be throughout her life. Someday she'll appreciate it as much as Sonja and I already do.

Honey and Busia held Zoe and cried tears of joy. Nurses cut the grandpas' visit short, however. And from then on, I introduced Zoe to the rest of the family from the delivery room doorway.

Beyond the curtain behind me, things weren't right.