8AM on December 28, 1989 I underwent a C-Section to deliver a healthy, 6.15 1/2 lb, 19 inch baby girl. It was an anti-climactic delivery to the preparation I had put into the nine months I was infanticipating – child birth classes, Lamaze books, Leboyer books, active birth books – you name it, I knew it.

But a visit to my OB-GYN coupled with a possible miscalculation on my part – plus a nervous mother who didn’t want anything bad to happen to her daughter (me) or grandchild (Kyera) – left me and my then-husband with no choice but to agree to the expensive operation.

Seeing that we were twenty, both unemployed at the time, and living under my mother’s roof, we didn’t have much of a say in the matter. So we went home to pick up my and the baby’s diaper bag, said good-bye to our bedroom, and promised it we would return with a baby. I turned to my husband and said, “Our lives will never be the same again. The next time we come home, we’ll be parents.” Continue reading →