a brave woman

A dear friend of mine just had her first child last Monday. I asked her how delivery was- better or worse than anticpated, etc- and her reply email told me to sit down.
30 hours.
30 loooong hours, 20 of it back labor.
The 30 doesn't even include 12 hours of pre-labor.
wow.

Then I got a birth announcement in the mail. She had her baby at home, assisted by a couple of midwives. Her husband was right there and caught the baby as she came out.

I was blown away. Now, my second was born at home, but that was BOO's choice, not mine at all. I felt the first (what I thought was random) contraction at just past midnight, didn't decide something-might-really-be-happening-so-maybe-I-should-wake-up-hubby until 1am, and at 1:30 as paramedics are walking up to our door, my husband was catching Boo.

I have always respected this friend, she is even the originator of 'ptooie'. It was her word of general mild disgust or frustration, similar to 'phooey'. We were first and second chair bass in high school orchestra, plus had german and some other classes together. She's the tallest woman in her family at 5' 1.75". We are both only children raised by single mothers who all happen to be cat people, though my mom and I only had 3 and they had something like 7.
I am at a whole new level of repect now.
Saturday I get to go visit. I asked what I could give them to welcome the bundle of joy, and was told "NO CLOTHING! We have been innundated with onesies!" so I suggested giving them our pack'n'play, jumparoo, and swing. That struck her as a fine way for them to not have to spend money on larger items, so that is my gift to welcome little precipatation (fancy name for child's first name).