18 Years Ago: May 15th--Balance

May 15, 1997: In our file of assorted notes on pregnancy and birth, I found a sheet of paper in Markus' handwriting with instructions for our appointment at the Fetal Diagnostic Center. We were nearly one week post due, and it was time to check in on the baby. 5/15/97 at 9:00 am, a Thursday. A person named Colleen had called. We were to report to the 4th floor of "Mott Hospital" and the note includes how to get there: "2nd level of Taubman, left from elevator, follow signs to Mott." I add that detail not because it's particularly interesting, but because it emphasizes the fact that there was a time when we had not been inside Mott (except for a tour of the birth station on the 4th floor). We later became so familiar with that place during Simon's cancer care.

The appointment involved checking my vitals (heart rate, blood pressure, temperature I assume), looking via ultrasound at the amount of amniotic fluid, and hooking me up to a fetal monitor, which places a few sensors against your belly to measure what your contractions are doing and what the baby's doing. We could watch a monitor and see it blip when I had a Braxton-Hicks "fake" contraction. I'd read about nipple stimulation as a way to encourage labor to start, and I had received the midwives' blessing to give it a try if I went past the due date. Sitting there, I could generate a contraction, watch the monitor spike, and return again to neutral. Sigh. (Nipple stimulation played no significant role in Simon's birth; 28 months later, however, it was my nursing toddler who kicked off labor five days "early." I'm 100% sure about that.)

At the end of my appointment, the technician offered to do a vaginal check. I'd read about those, too, and the lack of real predictive information to be gained from checking cervical softness and dilation. But I was a week overdue, and I was curious. She also offered to rub on prostaglandin gel, a hormone that occurs in semen, as a means of stimulating labor. Once she checked, though, she said I wouldn't be needing any gel. She made a follow-up appointment for fetal monitoring on Monday, but she said, "I don't think you'll make it--I think you'll have this baby over the weekend." Reassuringly, she said we wouldn't need to worry about canceling the appointment--the system had that covered.

Markus and I left the Fetal Diagnostic Center, planning no further need for fetal monitoring, especially not during birth. I was convinced I wanted to be free to move around during labor: no IV in my hand, nothing strapped to my belly. Mott Hospital is adjacent to the green and spacious Nichols Arboretum, and we decided to go for a walk there. Walking was another way to rev up the body for labor, of course. I took so many walks during the last weeks and days. In the photos you can see I'm wearing a warm jacket, as it was still cool for mid-May.

Nichols Arboretum
May 15, 1997

"Balance beam" walk on parking barrier

May 15, 2015: This writing project revives the great anticipation of giving birth for the first time. I have been so unsure how to approach the date this year, the day Simon would have become a legal adult. I'm glad I chose to dive into the memories and reoccupy that magical time of becoming a mother. Through my time travel, I am approaching Simon's birthday this year not primarily from the depth of loss (and this moment is a startlingly deep point) but with forward motion and rising joy.

And so it should be. I'm reminded of a visit to Ann Arbor several years after Simon died. I took a walk toward the medical campus, still wondering if I really wanted to visit the cancer clinic, just to say hello to the nurses who had cared for him. At the upper end of the massive complex (up near Angelo's Diner), I saw a familiar figure walking toward me. It was Carol Shultheis, the nurse midwife who had attended Simon's birth. Feeling the pull of the cancer center, I was glad for Carol's reminder of the joyous parts of life with my son. His struggle with illness dominates my memories of this hospital, and his absence pervades my life.

Yet, he was born right there. He was gloriously born, and I have never felt more complete alignment and personal power than on that day.