My kind of marathon

I feel it only right to start this whole Momma-blogging thing off by starting at the beginning. I won't go too much into detail, unless you ask me to. But let's just say that once we decided we wanted a baby, it didn't take long. All of a sudden there was the pregnancy test with the big blue +plus sign+  taped to the front door, just waiting for Phaeton to come home to. I don't know how it got there, but it definitely got the reaction I was hoping for! Thus, began our journey.
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I'm not the kind of person that would ever sign-up to run a marathon. Hell, I barely mall-walked my last 5K. (So as not to be misleading, when I say my last 5K, it was probably the 2nd or 3rd in my life). The only kind of marathon that I would ever put my body through is one where the end prize was something so precious, that brought so much joy and love into my life - the way a baby does. Nothing could ever compare to my kind of marathon.
So, being pregnant is like 40 weeks of training for the marathon of your life, and you really have no idea how long the marathon will last. It might just be a sprint, or it could be Iron-Man. So you do research, take classes and prepare your body as best as you can, to hopefully encourage and persuade your baby to keep it brief. Preferably, Baby, I'd like you to just make a mad-dash to the finish line. 
But, Baby does what She wants. And this baby was perfectly comfortable being the tortoise in my marathon. Slow and steady.
In the big scheme of things, it was a short chapter. But factor in the experience in its entirety - the sleepless nights of excitement and anxiety, the excruciating leg cramps, the nausea, the overwhelming feelings of terror and realization of responsibility, and the incomparable happiness and anticipation of what's to come - it's the most significant, life-altering chapter of my life. I loved myself more than I ever had before, because it wasn't just me anymore. My relationship with Phaeton grew in leaps and bounds. I became more appreciative of the man that he is and grateful that he is the man, soon-to-be the father, of our little girl. And while he was not gaining any sympathy weight, I was growing 39 pounds wider. But what's nice about my kind of marathon is that the moment you're done, you've already lost about 15 of them. 
So, my marathon started at 4am on a Monday and I crossed the finish line 41 hours later at 9:40pm....on a Tuesday. For the last 4 1/2 hours of my marathon, every single muscle in my body was pushing so I could meet my little turtle. Sometimes I still can't believe that I managed to avoid a C-section. Thank you, Kelly-Jean (my midwife) for being my strongest advocate. But I pushed and pushed the baby through, millimeter after millimeter, hour after hour, I pushed. I remember it getting exceptionally painful in the final minutes and the whole time just feeling duped that the epidural was not numbing enough. Then I remember lots of movement in the room and people getting covered up and excited and I was screaming and pushing and -- 
and my husband caught her with his bare hands. It was beautiful. She was here, in our world. She took her first breath of life. And we took our first breath as parents. And it all slowed down. With her here, it could all just slow down. It's a miracle, every moment. And she is what brings me back to the moment. And everyday, I'm completely amazed at what my body did - at what we created - at what the human body is capable of. Babies are born every second, but nothing compares to that second when your baby is born. It's a moment you never forget.
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I was sore for weeks, much longer than if I'd just run the damn marathon. But my prize at the finish line was far greater than any medal. And while 10 months after-the-fact, I'm still leisurely burning off the pounds, I do feel proud of what this extra weight means. So there's no rush for me to lose this baby weight. Besides, it gives Adeleigh something to bounce up and down on and hide her toys in.