My Dragon was born Dec. 3. She was more than one week overdue, so the doctor induced me at 9 a.m. The drugs gave me really strong contractions, but after 14 hours Dragon had made no progress toward the egress and I developed a fever. So they rolled me in for a C-section. They tied my arms out like crucified Jesus and hung a blue curtain over my chest so I wouldn't freak out at the sight of my guts piled on my torso. Craig held my hand, I puked on the table, and life began.
It turned out Dragon was facing the wrong way and got stuck against my bones. I don't think anybody told me when they got her out of my belly, but I heard her squawk a couple of times.
"She has hair," Craig said. I was still tied down behind the curtain, so I couldn't see her. Someone wrapped Dragon in a blanket, untied my arms and put her on my chest while I was flat on my back. It was awkward. I felt incredibly tired and couldn't swallow for some reason, so I was preoccupied with a fear of falling asleep, choking on my saliva and dropping her.
That didn't happen.
Dragon lay on my chest, stared at me and stuck her tongue out again and again.
Craig took her away for some activities I still don't know about. I fell asleep while the doctors sewed me up.
Then my family was together.
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