The Birth of Buzz | Transitions

{part one}

On the wall across from me was this awful piece of art hanging above the bathtub. It was an abstract doodle of sorts that I could not stand looking at for the past week. With my eyes I began tracing the thick black scribbled lines, taking in deep breaths and exhaling until the intensity died down. Who knew something I despised so much would become the best focal point I had that night.

When I left the bathroom and walked in to the bedroom, I was not sure what to think. Bear came to check on me and I told her that if I had another contraction like that one we needed to head to the hospital.

I had been away from everyone for a good few minutes and I knew they would start to worry. I told Bear I didn't want the guys to over react. So I asked her to casually mention that we might want to get our things together and head to the hospital within the hour.

I started packing the last of my things when another surge crept in. Hunched over the bed, I desperately searched the room for a focal point. Unsuccessful, I began losing a bit of control as the wave crashed over me. I was trying my hardest not to alarm anyone, but it was getting increasingly difficult to stay quiet.

[There are times in life when one may feel significantly small compared to the colossal moment swirling around them. When time slows down and instinct takes over, dictating every action and emotion. these moments are the most cognizant of any. Thousands of thoughts run through your mind, yet you remain focused and keen. The rush of endorphins flood your body and lift you high. This suspended peak of clarity can be so thrilling it can feel like a drug. Did you ever think something called 'labor' would feel so exhilarating?]

When Bear walked back in to the room and looked at my face, she knew. I told her to get my things and that I would tell the guys. So I walked in to the living room and told Papa that we needed to leave now. He seemed very calm and said okay. I got my shoes on and grabbed my purse and pillow.

I could feel the rush of another one tightening around me. I quickly wrapped my arms around Bear's neck and we were back to where we had been when I was laboring with McQueen. Swaying from side to side, her arms wrapped around my hips. She whispered keep breathing in to my ear and told me how good I was doing. I swiped my nose up and down her neck. The smell of her cologne and the warmth of her skin was very soothing to me.

This was the first hard contraction the guys had witnessed me having. I'm not sure if that is when the panic ensued but I'm thinking it may have initiated some commotion. Later i would learn that this was the moment Bear really knew I was ready. In fact, she was a little concerned that I had waited too long..

We headed outside to get in to the car but halfway in the street I had to pause during another contraction. Bear assumed the same position, talking me through it while I nuzzled my nose in to her neck again.

Later that night, I realized that I must have dropped my pillow I was carrying because there is now a permanent asphalt stain on my beautiful Calvin clean pillow case. It marks a forever memory of that moment in which I will always treasure.

The ride to the hospital was (and still is) a blur. Papa was driving, Bear and Daddy were in the back, and I was sitting in the front seat. This was probably the most difficult part of my labor. Poor Papa was rushing to get to the hospital while Daddy was trying to get a hold of our OB. Bear was trying to give directions to Papa and keep me calm all at the same time. It was pure chaos and I began to hit transition really hard at this point.

Anyone who knows what transition is like, understands what I mean when I say your mind starts to do funny things. I believe this was the moment when I became introverted. Speaking only in short direct phrases.

The rushes grew so intense I started cursing, worrying that we wouldn't make it. Pitbull was blaring on the radio and Bear shouted to Papa to turn it down or put something soothing on. But I protested, asking them to leave it on. For some odd reason the syncopated beat of the music was helping my body relax as my mind was a whirlwind..

[still, more to come]