Last year this time, the pain had already started. We found out after one sleepless night that it was going to be a long and slow labour. But we were home. I loboured in my bed, in my own shower, with Amir, my mom and my sister. I had lunch in my bed, I hugged Maseeh in between the pains, and I cried with my head in my own pillow. It took another 26 hours before we finally went to the birth center and I thought that the deep tub, also known as the midwives' epidural, was simply a miracle from God,
27 hours before I experienced the most excruciating pain I did not imagine was possible,
28 hours before I got so scared that I almost lost it all,
and 30 hours before I held him and felt his warm wet skin on mine.
It did not go as I planned, I was not the graceful mom in labour that I always thought I would be, I regret that at some point, fear got the best of me, but I am so happy and so grateful that I got to listen to my body and feel it stretched to its limits, and that we got to experience this process on our own terms.