Happy Chaos Read Free

my life.
    My labor room was like Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Christmas, and a birthday party rolled into one big celebration, all to the tune of a folk-reggae soundtrack. While I labored, a group of friends and family came to support us and then stayed for the party. I had brought a little Buddha with me to be a calming focal point, and my loved ones generated waves of nurturing love that reverberated around that room. An amazing number of people were there to welcome Poet into the world: my mom, my godmother, Tori (my best friend since we were two years old), Ashton, Demi (who turned out to be the best birthing coach ever; I swear, she must have been a midwife in a previous life), my good friend Heather, and my mother-in-law. Oh, and the doctor, the nurse, my husband. And me.
    I was given Pitocin to move things along. Demi soothed me and gave me a leg massage while I happily sucked on Popsicles. I had enough of an epidural to make labor bearable, but not so much that I couldn’t push, and when I’d reached eight centimeters, the doctor came in and announced, “Okay, let’s have a baby!” Of course, this was the one moment when Jason and Ashton had stepped out to check on a game on the television in the waiting room down the hall. My tribe of women was surrounding me and said lovingly, “This is it. It’s time.” Jason quickly came running back into the room. Jason was on one side of me, my mother was on my other side, Tori was at one of my legs, and Demi was at the other. My family and friends cheered me on. The doctor had me push, and then, as Poet started to crown, I will never forget reaching down and feeling her head for the first time. I kept pushing with every bit of my heart and soul as her little body emerged. The doctor said, “Now pull your baby out.” I put my hands gently under Poet’s arms, pulled her out, and put her on top of me. Then, at 2:20 A.M. on August 24, 2005, the room broke into a joyful chorus of “Happy Birthday.”
    A few hours after that it was just me, Jason, and our baby. Jason finally fell asleep, and Poet and I listened to music for the rest of the night, while I stared at her in awe. The next day the room refilled with family, extended family, and friends. One of my most precious memories was watching my godfather, Joseph, hold Poet. He had raced through half of Southern California to find a hospital where I could be born, and now here he was holding my firstborn. He was fighting cancer at the time—and would die within a year and a half—and I was so overwhelmingly grateful that my baby had these precious moments with him.

    Jason and me in total awe of our new baby girl, Poet
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    Elation carried us through the next few days in the hospital. I remember in the delirious hours after Poet was born, I was so ridiculously joyful that I shouted out, “Let’s do it again!” I’m sure half the mothers in the maternity wing thought I was crazy, and the other half wanted to know what drugs I was on. But it was just sheer ecstatic delight. This girl we had waited nine months for—this girl I had truly waited my whole life for—was here, finally. And nothing could distract us from the wonder.

S.P.S.
Whatever works for you . . .
    I had a little Buddha as my calming focal point when I gave birth to Poet, but yours could be anything that’s meaningful to you. Maybe it’s something spiritual, or maybe it’s something comforting from home. I had soft lights that looked like candles and my playlist that I had made at home. I really wanted the room to have a warm feel. And I had lots of people around. Not everyone is going to want eight people in the room, but for us it was perfect. The important thing is to have things that make you feel most comfortable and to make a list of what you want and don’t want. Be sure to share it with whoever else you plan to have in the labor room with you. Ask your friends how they