Taylor’s Story

May 19, 2015

Details from October 23, 2014.

Will always be a day I remember detail for detail, the one day that changed my whole life, for I couldn’t not forget.

October 23, 11:58, the contractions started… and they were killer. I spent that whole night moving from my bed, to the floor, to the bath. There was no sleeping, I thought I was beginning to be paralyzed, my ribs, they felt like if they expanded any more that would crumble, my pelvis, everything. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. It lasted, too. That morning around seven, I had to bring my brother and sister to school, and try to hide this excruciating pain, because they didn’t know I was pregnant, none the less about to pop.

These pains lasted all day, and while I was picking my brother and sister up, I had this horrible feeling it was going to be time, but I made it home. I came into the house and almost fell to the ground, I couldn’t move any more, my legs kept giving out. He was coming. I told them my back was killing me and I spent the next three hours in the bathtub.

I was horrid that my dad was going to be home, I didn’t want anyone around for Dakota’s birth, but somehow I got lucky, because my sister had softball practice, so around six that night they all headed to the ballfield, and there I was… alone, giving birth. I got out of the bathtub, made sure everything I needed was all there, cleaned the tub, made sure it was sanitized. I was ready, I knew I was, so I laid there, praying for the first time in three years, I sat there, talking to God, talking to my uncle up in the clouds, I knew I was being watched over and protected… I was ready.

I sat there in the water, and it was the most spiritual and self-knowing experience I’ve ever had, I felt like I was finally one with myself, I knew who I was. Life made sense, and it was magical.

October 24, 7:48 p.m. He was coming out, one push. My water broke, then another push, he knew what he was doing. It was not until he was put at 8:02, that the first trouble had happened. Dakota had his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, but for some reason, I didn’t panic, I knew how to deal with this… I was ready. Everything was perfect, my baby was breathing. I clipped the cord, and I cut it. I held him, I cleaned him, I nourished him, it was me and him. It was the best experience I’ve ever had, and I wouldn’t change it.

8:15 p.m. I texted my dad, for I couldn’t speak… I wrote…

“I need you to make me a promise.”

Of course he knew something was happening, so he texted frantically asking if I was okay, and that of course he would make me a promise, to which I replied…

“That you’ll always love me, no matter what.”

Shortly, I heard his truck, and heard the footsteps of him running into the house. There was a pause, Dakota cried, the footsteps stopped. He walked slowly, gently… He stood there in my room doorway, the palest I’ve ever seen him. He just dropped, he sat there on the floor, with no words. He just started to cry, and gave me the most sincere hug I’ve ever felt. We wrapped Kota up and we brought him to the hospital.

The hospital…. We got there, and told them what just happened, and they rushed me to a labour room, to where we sat there, with a million questions to answer. The nurses checked on Kota, and everything that needed to happen, I had done. He was healthy, he was perfect. Everything, every little inch of him, was perfect.

And through all this, I just have to say thanks to God, because if he wasn’t there with me, everything might not have worked out so perfectly. I can not express the gratitude and love I have for Dakota, that is my all, my everything. Never will I ever make him feel as if he is not the most important thing to me. I love you, little bear.


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