Tasting Grace by Melissa d'Arabian

Author:Melissa d'Arabian [d'Arabian, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2019-09-10T00:00:00+00:00

Nurturing the Mom

When I was pregnant with Valentine, I planned to breastfeed her once she was born, and I looked forward to the connection that nourishing my new baby would create. But even great plans get derailed. We also planned for a natural childbirth, using a method called hypnobirthing. Philippe and I spent weeks taking classes with a hypnobirthing coach where I learned how to meditate on pleasant birthing thoughts as soft music played (my favorite prerecorded mantra: “The tissue of my birth canal is soft and pink”). We were blissfully happy, awaiting the medicine-free, peaceful arrival of our first child. Even her arrival was a story of the nurturing power of feeding others and allowing others to nourish me.

Twelve days after my due date, the doctor scheduled an induction for January 11. Medical induction wasn’t what we’d hoped for and not at all what we’d envisioned. My doctor told me to be at the hospital at midnight. I sensed right away that my plans and careful preparation were mostly theoretical at this point. Something way bigger than me was taking over. It was time to buckle up for the ride.

Almost as if he knew I would need strength for the journey, Philippe surprised me early that evening by making my very favorite meal. He bought us huge, gorgeous steaks—a rare treat on our meager student budget—and cooked them exactly the way I love beef: red but warm; in that very small window between medium-rare and rare. It’s hard to get it truly perfect, and I was touched that he had. Even better, he had the recorded finale of our favorite show, The Amazing Race, ready and waiting. A perfect date to calm my nerves before heading to the hospital to get hooked up to a Pitocin drip and become a mom.

Just as we cued up the TiVo (this was 2005) and settled in with overflowing plates, the hospital called. Philippe answered. I could hear the voice through the receiver. There’d been a change in scheduling and they could accommodate us sooner, so did we want to come right away? We faced a choice: meet our baby a few hours earlier, or stay to enjoy Philippe’s amazing dinner and find out which team would win the million dollars? I chose to enjoy the gift of the food. We’d be parents forever, so really what was a few extra hours of waiting? We ate the dinner and watched the finale, and I went to the hospital feeling loved, strong, and ready. That is the power of a meal made with love—and good television.

Despite all our planning and our dreams of a hypnobirth, the word labor lived up to the name. If you haven’t given birth to kids, let me tell you, labor is hard—and for all the effort you put forth for hours, you get ice chips for sustenance. Seriously? About ten hours in, I started losing my enthusiasm and good humor about the project, and I gently nudged my face away from the plastic cup of ice chips that Philippe offered me.

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