Geez… inhale.. Yeah… exhale… I need to go to the hospital.

NOW.

I had just finished throwing up so violently that I had no idea how I did not smash my face on the porcelein.

Now there I was, lying on the cold stone bathroom floor, 34 weeks pregnant. The last time I threw up like that I gave birth a few minutes later. 

My sister’s car broke down. Oz is at work 30 minutes away. Taxi please.

The cab driver asked if I was going to visit someone or to work at the hospital.

“No, I think I’m having a baby.”

Silence.

He started to drive a little faster. I can’t imagine a cab driver who wants someone’s water bursting in their back seat.

 Thirty minutes later, I’m going through registration. Really? C’mon. There’s got to be a faster way. 

See, I don’t feel the pain of the contractions as badly as others. I zen out throughout the process. I can make it to the pushing without extreme pains. I just feel uncomfortable tightening. 

I got up to the maternity triage and changed my clothes in the bathroom. A cattleya flower greets me there. A sign that she’s coming? Cataleya was to be her name.

The nurse says I’m 3 centimeters dialated, 80% effaced and baby’s head is at the -1 position, meaning she’s super low. The monitors say I’m contracting intensely (how am I not in extreme pain?). Contractions are 1-3 minutes apart. This baby wants to come out tonight.

But she can’t. She’s too small. She needs to bake for a few more weeks. Ideally 6 more weeks.

They inject me with medication to help stop the contractions. Doesn’t work very well. I’m still contracting hard even though it is starting to pace out. I’m pumped with so much saline fluid that I’m going to the bathroom every few minutes. I want it to just stop. I want to have it all stop.

In time, things slowed down and two days later I was released. My doctor said if I made it to 36 weeks to throw a party. Heck, if we made it to that Friday to throw a party. It was only Monday.

Wow, I’m having a baby. And soon.

Where did the time go?

I wasn’t ready for her to come right now.

Up to that point, more often than not, I didn’t feel pregnant. Most of the time was spent responding to other people’s needs. I was in such a stressful living situation that I felt as though I was not permitted to just BE. It didn’t sink in that I was actually pregnant and another baby is coming until I was in the hospital. I thought I had more time.

And I needed time on my side. From then on, I committed to living in the moment as much as possible. Every day that passed was a celebration. No need to wait until Friday. We were celebrating now.

I was soaking up as much time as I could with my son before his sister arrives. Wasn’t I doing this before? I thought I was. But I quickly realized I missed out on things when I allowed myself to be overtaken by other people’s negative dispositions. Being an empath, I can get lost in the energy of those around me if I don’t make a conscious effort to emit and protect my own. No wonder Cataleya wanted out. Or at least wanted to let me know to get my shit together.

Thank you for that wake up call, baby girl.

I found peace in the days that followed, and I felt her love more than ever. And it felt like magic.

On the morning of her birth, she gently woke me up to let me know it’s time we met. I basked in serenity knowing I was going to be face to face with my angel.

It was with the strength I found in serenity that allowed me to have a mostly painless labor and birth. No screaming, no crying, no medications. Just peace. Ok, and maybe a tight grip on Oz’s hand here and there. 

But the moment the doctor handed me her tiny little 36 week body to hold, there was an overwhelming sense of completeness. 

This is it. 

She’s here.

And she’s perfect. Even down to her name. 

The cattleya orchid can live in harsh environments, but given the right conditions it blooms to reveal one of the world’s most beautiful flowers. 

My little Cataleya did just that. And as she continues to bloom, she teach me to do the same.