That One Time I Watched a Birth

What did you do on Friday night? Me? I watched my friend Jaclyn give birth. As this is clearly a once in a lifetime experience, I felt the need to write about it here.

Let me preface by saying I didn't really intend to watch the birth; instead, I meant to show up to the hospital to lend my support and congratulations. As Jaclyn had been in labor for the better part of the day, I thought the baby would surely be out by the time I came. But as I walked into the delivery room, I heard painful moans and screams. The baby hadn't come yet.

Quite honestly, I was overwhelmed by the process at first. A mix of stress and tension in the air, added to the knowledge that one day I intend to have children, made me feel like I was about to pass out. I'm a wimp. But when it was time for the main delivery (yes, I watched it ALL), it became much more interesting than vomit-inducing.

Let me tell you this: watching a birth is like learning about a death. All of a sudden all worries about work, stress and other trivialities fade from the mind; thus, we are left with the realization of our mortality and purpose within our short life. As the baby was pulled out from the birthing canal, I couldn't help but ponder all the hopes, wishes and love Jaclyn and Miguel poured on that baby. And I poured them out, too. Suddenly this being was brought into the world, and it gave me a sense of optimism. Although he's just a few days old, I can't help but smile over all the possibilities for his life.

It's nice to have these reminders, and so I write this post. I fear that I'll quickly return to a mundane schedule in where I appreciate life less and less each day. But then I'll think of little Miguel's birthday, which will remind me that we all have the opportunity for rebirth at any age, no matter the death we are feeling.

I'll hold onto that hope.