Thomas Beatie - Labor of Love: The Story of One Mans Extraordinary Pregnancy

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I cant imagine where Id be in life without my wife, Nancy. She is my best friend, my conscience, my stability, and my love. She is my everything. With Nancy I have realized all that I can be. Her endless, selfless, and tender I support has enabled me to reach a new level of happiness and human potential. Over the last seventeen years, I have witnessed the depth and richness of her maternal instinct, and I would have chosen no other woman to be the mother of my child. This book and everything redemptive within it would have been only a dream without her. Thank you, Nancy. I love you dearly.

I also wouldnt be where I am today if it werent for my gentle and kind mother, Susan. She is the reason I started writing this book. She was a teacher, and she taught me how to be not only a good parent but also a good person. She gave me the power to look within myself, and she encouraged me to choose my own path in life. Through the example of her patience and goodness and generosity, she let me see what it means to be a loving and nurturing parent. These are the very lessons and values I hope to pass down to my children. Mom, I think about you every day, and I wish you were here with us now.

I would also like to thank Christine, who changed my life by believing in me from the very beginning. She encouraged me as I embarked upon this amazing journey to parenthood, and she inspired me to celebrate life. I have never stopped loving her, and I never will.

Thanks, also, to Amber and Jen, who welcomed me into their home and their hearts and always saw me as a part of the family. They have been there with Nancy and me through all the highs and lows, and they have championed me without judgment and with unqualified love. Today, I am so proud of them, of their maturity and independence, and I know they are going to be incredible big sisters.

I also have to thank all the people in the world who came across our story and extended their hearts to us. I cant tell you how much their kindness meant to me. So many people have told me that I am an inspiration to them, but the truth is that their goodness has been a beacon of hope for us. These people have inspired me to be a better person. The unexpected support of everyone who sent us letters, baby gifts, and crucial words of encouragement has changed my view of the world. The goodness of these people has far outweighed any negative reaction to our story.

This book really came to life because of Alex Tresniowski, my compassionate and talented cowriter. Thank you, Alex, for listening to my words not only with your ears, but also with your heart. You believed in us from the start and stayed by our side through the storm. Nancy and I consider you a dear friend.

Thank you, also, to my wonderful and patient literary agent, Andrea Barzvi at ICM. She believed in our story and worked tirelessly to make this book happen. She always shared my passion for this project, and when things were the most difficult, thats when Andy fought the hardest to make this a reality. Thanks, also, to Seal Press, for its courage and enthusiasm, and for being such a positive force in this process. The folks at Seal, particularly the amazing Brooke Warner, recognized the humanity in our story from the very beginning, and we wouldnt want to have been involved with any other publisher.

I would also like to acknowledge my father. All of my drive, all of my success, is rooted in my lifelong wish to make him proud of me. If it werent for him, I simply wouldnt have all the things that I cherish today. He gave me life, and I am half of him. And, in a strange way, I learned from his mistakes what it means to be a good father.

Finally, I want to thank, with all my heart, my beautiful daughter, Susan. Precious Susan, you are my purpose, my passion, and because of you my life has new meaning. Everything in my world has already changed because of you, and when I think of the future, you are my guiding star. You are a survivor, strong and good, and in you I see all the love that I havefor my mother, for Nancy, for life. Lovely child, you are my heart.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Thomas Beatie was born and raised in Hawaiias a girl, Tracy. Thomas transitioned in the late 1990s. He is a custom screenprinter and owner of Define Normal Clothing Company. Thomas lives in Bend, Oregon, with his wife, Nancy, and their daughter, Susan, who was born to Thomas on June 29, 2008.

Chapter 1

DEFINE NORMAL

I have been a daughter and a son, a sister and a brother, a boyfriend and a girlfriend, a beauty queen and a stepfather, a Girl Scout and a groom. But today I am just an ordinary human being in a whole lot of pain.

Today it is happeningit is finally happening. I am wearing an enormous, 4X white T-shirt, on inside out. The soothing, insistent sound of a heartbeataround 140 of them each minuteis the only music in my otherwise quiet birthing room. My contractions are intensifying, and every couple of minutes I feel this surging pain that starts from inside my gut and radiates out. I remember trying to do a dismount from a chin-up bar when I was ten, and landing square on my back. That was the worst pain I ever felt, but this is way, way worse. Our midwife puts a cold washcloth on my forehead; my wife, Nancy, kisses me tenderly on my cheek.

It has been a long, hard, often surreal journey to get to this point, and now I have to summon one last big burst of energy for the final leg. Gravity is your friend, says the midwife, urging me to walk around to try to speed things along. But the truth, I am finding, is that having a child is not in any way a passive act. You dont just show up and wait for the baby to arrive. You have to will the baby out of your body, and that means marshaling every last ounce of strength and resolve that you have.

Nancy puts her hand on my belly and feels our daughter thrashing around, and she tells me, Dont worry, shell be here soon. But the hours pass. I focus on odd little details to take my mind off the pain. Our midwifes left index finger is wrapped entirely in surgical tape; she cut it slicing whole grain bread that morning. This strikes me as neither a good nor a bad omen, just unlucky for her. I also notice she has a tiny diamond stud in her left nostril. You can barely make it out in the dimly lit room, but when she leans in to fix my blanket or move me from side to side, it sparkles. Shes a wonderful woman, so calm and reassuring, and I like that shes obviously a bit of a hippie, too.

I am 100 percent effaced; I am also nearly fully dilated at nine centimeters. And still no baby. We got to the hospital in the early morning; its nearly nighttime now. Let us know when you feel the urge to push, says our midwife. Not just pressure, but a real urge to push. Nancy starts watching out for what she calls my pushy face, then asks if she can get her own epidural. Thats Nancy: cracking jokes, making everyone feel at ease, and still remaining a tower of strength for me to lean on. That morning at home she sifted through a bowl of jelly beans and brought all the purple and orange onesmy favoritesto the hospital. She slips a couple of them to mea simple, throwaway gesture between a husband and a wifebut it strikes me yet again, as it does every day, that I could never, ever have done this without her right by my side. Nancy gets up to straighten my sheets and touches my face with her hand. She says, Your nose is really cold, like a puppys.

A nurse gradually fills my IV with pitocin, which is supposed to increase contractions and speed along my labor. Your uterus is really tired, the midwife tells me, and I think,

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