Dear Labor and Delivery, The day I found I was pregnant, I was sitting in this pastel green room in the back corner of the pediatric doctor’s office I’d been going to since I was a baby. I remember gagging at the sight of what I assumed was a slimy cheese puff handprint on the wall next to me when the nurse entered the room. Timidly, she looked down, unsure of my reaction as she quietly said, “You’re pregnant.” 

As her words met my ears, it felt like I was being pulled into a time loop of the past nineteen years of my life. Over and over, they played in my head. Reminding me that I was not ready to be a mother.
 
Honestly, I wasn’t even sure of who I was. My identity was lost in the shadows of my childhood. I was still the little girl who tucked the edge of the blanket under her feet each night to keep the monsters away. How was I going to be responsible for protecting someone? 

I was terrified. 

But what I didn’t realize then was that the fear I felt wasn’t something for me to stumble over. It was a stepping stone toward healing. 

 As the nurse wheeled me down that long hall toward those brown double doors, my heart began to race. I entered that delivery room still that same scared little girl—the girl who hadn’t really lived much. The girl who held so much hurt that she couldn’t count on her fingers how many times she thought it best if she weren’t alive—a girl who had the same thought that day. 

So, Labor and Delivery. 

I want to thank you for saving my life. 

Not because I almost died that day, but because my son was not the only one in the room who was being born. 

 I want to thank you for the warm welcome. It was a feeling I had never felt before.  

I want to thank you for grounding me. 

I had always felt out of place, but the second his bright blue eyes locked with mine, I knew exactly where I was meant to be. I knew I belonged. 

I want to thank you for teaching me to value my life. 

I used to be one to wish my days away. Searching for something to make the time go by faster, even if it was just for a second. Now, time just slips away from me, and I can‘t ever seem to have enough. When they said that the years go by fast, I didn’t think I’d ever find myself wanting them back. That was until he took his first breath. 

I want to thank you for showing me that love conquers all. 

I still tuck the edge of the blanket under my feet to keep the monsters out. But now, there are little feet cuddled up next to mine. I read him bedtime stories and sing lullabies. I am still scared, but that won’t stop me from protecting him.  

So, thank you, Labor and Delivery 

Thank you for helping me labor and for delivering me from who I used to be to the mother I am today.