I cooked up this little Bambino right in time for the Jewish New Year. Baby Boy Harris was born early this Thursday morning as the Jerusalem sunlight streamed in the open window, after days of labor. No seriously. Days. You know when people tell you their labor stories and you think secretly “Really? 45 hours? Ya right, I’m sure it just seemed long”? Just listen. And then give that person a hug. And bake them some cookies. Even if their child was born 20 years ago.
I had this grandiose plan to have an incredible, natural birth experience. I told everyone how dedicated I was to laboring without medication- I even made my husband promise that if I asked for drugs he should convince me that I really didn’t want them, or better yet, refuse to give them to me. Thank you, Husband. Thank you for not listening to me. Although I did end up taking pain medication during my birth, it was still the most beautiful, memorable experience of my life. One thing that I have learned is to allow yourself room for anything. Don’t guilt trip yourself if a situation doesn’t go exactly according to your master plan. Someone else has a real master plan, and that someone is a lot smarter than you.
Because it was Rosh Hashanah, I ended up staying in the hospital until late Saturday night, along with dozens of other women who gave birth over the holiday. As it was a religious hospital, almost everyone there was Orthodox Jewish, which made for an incredibly special weekend filled with festive meals, quiet, and even some singing. I was able to bond with my little boy and be taken care of by the warm staff of women. I had originally dreaded giving birth over the long holiday weekend, as I assumed there would be all sorts of complications with traveling, etc. But it turned out to be just perfect.
Now I’m going to go gush to myself over his huge baby feet and teeny baby nose.