By Madeline Marin-Foucher
It probably won´t come as much of a surprise to tell you that in the midst of all this whirlwind change I’ve been caught up in: moving, married, wife life, new job(s), there was bound to be a baby!
And baby there is, a glorious one, but let me start at the beginning…
My husband Manuel and I were legally married in February of 2012. From that point on it became a constant question in our minds: when to have a baby? Now? Later? Well, we ultimately decided when the time was right and I learned I was pregnant last July.
I enjoyed a whole minute of it before hideous morning sickness set in and I knew, without a doubt, I was having a boy.
My logic for this was pretty simple and pretty sexist, but I figured a girl wouldn’t do this to one of her own kind, so it must have been a tiny dude growing in my belly, whose different makeup would cause my body to react in shock.
It was pretty shocking but the constant sickness helped me lose 15 pounds right in time for my Oregon wedding ceremony, so in the end I like to think my boy had my back.
Around the sixth month point of pregnancy, I started to feel better and think about what kind of person my son would be.
I dreamt about the hikes I would take him on when we visited Oregon and laughed picturing him pulling on my dad’s beard and bringing my parents much joy.
Manuel and I always knew we wanted to be parents and since I’ve felt like I was about 75 years old in my brain since I was 10, I was ready.
Pregnancy chugged along with occasional bouts of anxiety and emotional upheaval until I was near my due date. I went to Mexico for my sister’s beautiful beachside wedding. Hugely swollen in a marigold yellow dress, I was reminiscent of a jaundiced porpoise washed up on shore, but I was glad to be there and glad my child didn’t choose that weekend to make his appearance.
Heading home to Chicago my activity level decreased and I began to think any second would be the moment I’d spontaneously combust. Going to the grocery store became semi nerve-racking. Taking public transit was a downright gamble. But my due date came and went without a contraction and I thought I was terminally pregnant. My mother visited us a week after my due date and I felt guilty when I picked her up at the airport, sans child.
Her visit was a welcome distraction and we cruised the city, dining out and shopping like I wasn’t carrying 40 extra pounds and expecting to deliver any minute. The morning of April 4, I awoke with some odd feelings around 1:30 a.m. I wasn’t sure what was happening but hazarded a guess that maybe it was contractions. Excitement did not take hold because I went back to sleep and didn’t really think about it until the next morning when the feelings persisted but were still pretty mild. Mom and I loaded up the car and went down to the Macy’s flower show. We perused Target. We stopped for lunch at a lovely old cafe. It was then that I started to think I was having contractions that were picking up rather steadily.
Manuel, Mom and I drove to my midwife’s office where she told me nothing was happening and I should take a walk. But the wise and kind Mexican nurse who had always been so sweet to my husband and me winked conspiratorially and said “I bet you will have this baby tonight!”
I left with her words ringing in my ears and took a belly-busting power walk around my neighborhood. Contractions became NOTICEABLE! I went to the bank. Breathing hard through the waves of cramping I smiled at the teller and deposited some checks. Then I shuffled to pick up eye drops for my husband. Dropped off some paperwork for my boss. Smiling to conceal, I’m just in labor, no big deal! When cooking dinner, I decided this was the real deal and I should focus. I ate some food, called my doula and hunkered down for the event.
Since I’ve already regaled you with details of my contractions, I’ll tell you I delivered my baby safely, fairly quickly and drug free at 5:15 a.m. on April 5.
And wouldn’t you know it? I was right! He is handsome boy whom we named Manuel (the 4th!) after my husband. At birth 8 lbs., 10 oz. and 22 inches long. That bruiser of a baby was the greatest blessing I’ve ever experienced and when we were able to take him home to start his life with us it was the most wonderful gift from God I could ever imagine.
I spend my days marveling at his beauty and ability to grow like wildfire, him gurgling and eating tons and being adorable.
Everything about him is perfect, everything about life is different, and you know what? It feels exactly right.
It sounds trite, but no one can prepare you for the feeling of being a parent and honestly I spent the first month with him in complete shock, unable to fathom what had transpired to make me his caretaker.
But now some time has gone by, he’s gotten bigger (doubled his birth weight in two months!) and seems less fragile, and we’re starting to really understand each other.
He likes old cowboy music, trying to eat my hair and watching his dad do anything. I can understand his different cries and would stop a freight train to make him happy.
We study each other with the same eyes, laugh and chatter nonsensically, kick our legs and dance to Paul Simon. My arms are getting stronger from toting him but I think my heart will forever more be a big ball of mush. Of all the things I’ve done, all the places I’ve seen, experiences I’ve had, people I’ve met, he is, by far, the absolute greatest.
Freelance writer Madeline (Lau) Marin Foucher grew up in Stayton. She has been writing for Our Town since she was 16. We’ve followed her through graduations from high school and college. She’s shared her adventures in international travel and working in the wilds of Eastern Oregon.
From time to time – as she has time and we have space – er column will appear.
