My baby sister had a baby. It was a week ago right now, actually. Geoff and I were at a prix fixe restaurant in Old City. (The only reason I mention that is bc once you are seated, they're stoking the stove for your entree.) I get a call from my Mom telling me not to worry and not to go see my sister who was trying to hang on to her hat after a castor oil milkshake was racking her system. Of course, I took this to mean I should worry and go see my sister. I called her and she proceeded to throw up during the conversation. While listening to her, Geoff, knowing labor, was explaining that I was on call and how to box up our filet mignon.
When Clara and I arrive at their apartment, my sis is flustered and winded and in full-on first stage labor. She's pacing, JP is timing contractions. I'm standing in their hallway thinking, "It seems like literally yesterday, she was taping shows on Nickelodeon with the Betamax." They'd just spoken to their midwife. She says call back at 10:15 describing the contractions. Not to make a long story short, because it is a rather short story, but to preserve their dignity and privacy, my little sis and her husband were amazing. When I teach childbirth class, I say that a woman gives birth the way that she lives her life. When I was describing the birth to my bro Mikey, I said this and I added that Shessy was all-business, a little curt and 100% correct. But also, she was so strong. Lela emerged at 11:33 in just 6 contractions after we got there. She tuned in to her bod and was able to keep up mentally with the intensity of her labor. We were telling her she needed to open up to 10 centimeters and to picture that actually happening. That girl's mind is amazing. After a harrowing ride down Lancaster Ave, she arrived and was found to be 9.5cms and nearly ready for pushing.
A million thoughts, that funny mix of deep profundity but then thinking how the midwife was a dead ringer for our old neighbor Tita Dorothy, a zaftig Polish woman and also this staggering sense of pride in my sister. I mean, I've been proud of my sibs before, but to be a woman and witness your sister give birth, is primal. It's raw and real and we could be on a dirt floor in the hills of Visaya howling and groaning those gutteral songs giving birth. Anyway, little Lucia Elizabeth (named for my dad and JP's mom) crowned and emerged with this teeny ruddy body and jet-black anime hair. Clara witnessed everything, wide eyed and game at that hour, I think knowing that this was beautiful and rare, knowing in her soul, that she should take this all in. For her first Valentine's she got a front row seat to people making sacrifices for love, which I think is the whole point of the day.