(An earlier version of this essay appeared in Parents Magazine and Fit Pregnancy in 2003.)

“Oh my God! Didn’t I see you on television last week?”

I’m in a neighborhood bagel shop, taking a bite of my sandwich, when I get my first taste of celebrity-style recognition.  “I feel like asking you for your autograph,” the girl standing in front of me says.  Though it’s true that I had re-applied my blush and lip gloss thirty minutes before my daughter was born, when I first decided to be part of The Learning Channel’s A Baby Story, local fame was not my intention.

Like many of my friends, I am addicted to the whole line-up of shows on The Learning Channel.  My interest in these shows has pretty much mirrored my life.  A Wedding Story when I became engaged, Trading Spaces when I began to decorate my apartment, A Makeover Story when I needed inspiration, and most recently, A Baby Story.

I cry at every birth.  I am in awe of the courage it takes these mothers to welcome a television crew into their birthing rooms.  Not once does it ever occur to me that I would be one of those mothers.

When I first find out that TLC is looking for parents-to-be in the New York area, I am intrigued, to say the least.  I want this experience.  Mostly, I want this gift to my child.  But a wave of panic washes over me when I try to imagine giving birth in front of a camera crew.  Would my reactions be false? Would I lose the intimacy of the moment? Would they show too much skin? Maybe this is something I can’t handle after all.

I decide to take the first step and let fate take over.  I quickly type out an email.  I am a 29-year-old old mother-to-be in Brooklyn, due to give birth to my baby in two months.  A simple email, nothing too flashy, just the facts.  I am afraid of being picked.

I mention the email to my husband, Gary, who seems fine with it.  Of course, he has never watched A Baby Story and does not know what is at stake.

Two weeks later my phone rings.  Nikki, a TV producer for A Baby Story, is calling to follow up.  Soon, my husband and I are crouched over our speakerphone, talking with Nikki like old friends about how we met, what kind of parents we will be.  One hundred and fifty couples are being interviewed.  Only fifty will be selected for the new season.  Before we hang up, Nikki says, “I think you guys are great.  The show is yours if you want it.”

The Baby Story offer. A bizarre chance to be on national television in the most human and vulnerable of ways.

It takes us another two weeks of hemming and hawing, asking opinions (some friends insist we do it, most call us crazy), contacting other couples who had already been on the show (they tell us we will get the best care at the hospital), assessing regrets (would it be worse to do it and be mortified or not do it and feel cowardly?), and Gary viewing some previous episodes (“Are these people that corny in real life?” he asks), until we say Yes.  Yes, I would take the risk of giving birth on national television if it meant having this story to share with my daughter some day.  Child, this is how much you were loved before you were even born.

A Baby Story typically has four segments.  The first is a baby shower or similar activity, the second is a mom and dad activity day, the third is the birth and the final segment is a check-in to see how the new family is doing.  My first day of taping would be my annual Girls’ Night In — a dozen friends and homemade desserts.  This time, to honor my pregnancy, we’d have a tarot card reading and a tattoo artist who would paint flowers on my belly.

When my doorbell rings the evening of my Girls’ Night In, I am relieved to finally meet the people who would be witnessing my birth.  Nikki and I hug when we meet.  It feels like we are already good friends.  I am introduced to the cameraman, Chris, who is, to my embarrassment, an attractive guy in his early thirties.  As I pose for a photo with him and Nikki later that night, I can’t help but think, “What did I get myself into? In a few short weeks, this man is going to see my vagina.”

A week later, Gary and I tape our segment at the beach club where we met and then at Coney Island.  It’s like spending a great day with friends — except our friends have very expensive video equipment and make us walk down the same street a few times recording from different angles.  For the most part, although some elements are choreographed for logistical purposes, we enjoy a lot of spontaneous fun riding the coasters on the boardwalk and playing carnival games. During each scene, although we are encouraged to focus on our baby, everything we say and do is up to us.  When we leave Nikki and Chris that evening, I have butterflies in my stomach.  The next time I see them, I would be in labor.

When my contractions begin on the morning of June 19, I call Nikki right away as directed, and am in touch with her the entire day.  Gary films me at my morning doctor’s appointment with the Daddy-Cam, a digital video camera that TLC lends us to capture the big day.

That evening, the labor pains become more unbearable.  Still only two centimeters dilated, I am sent home from the hospital for the second time that day.  When my water breaks in the car on the way home at 9:30PM, we immediately call Nikki and tell her to meet us at the hospital.

Half an hour later, I am in agony waiting for my epidural.  The crew is on their way to Brooklyn from Manhattan.  When the pain becomes so intense that I vomit into a bedpan, my one lucid thought is “Thank God this is not on tape.”

By 11:30 PM, the crew still hasn’t arrived, but when my doctor checks me, I am only three centimeters dilated.  Gary reaches Nikki on her cell phone and finds out she is lost.  “Don’t worry,” Gary says, “I think it will be a while.” Gary quickly leaves the hospital to buy snacks.

My contractions start coming more quickly.  When I am checked again at midnight, I am 10 centimeters dilated and, with pressure intensifying, ready to push.  I cross my legs to keep the baby inside, even though the nurse tells me it will never happen this fast.  Not only is my husband missing, but Nikki and Chris have yet to arrive.  I feel the baby coming.

Although the epidural has relieved my pain and I appear calm, inside I am filled with anxiety.  I try to remember my Lamaze breathing.  I can’t believe that after all my waffling over whether or not to do the show, I might give birth on my own.  To take my mind off my “reality television” dilemma, I take out my make up bag and touch up my face.  The clicking of my compact mirror calms me.  Labor is not a fashion show, and I am not usually vain, but if I can help it, I want to look good on television.

At 12:30 AM, my husband finally shows up. I am too busy freaking out that he almost missed our daughter being born, that I don’t notice Nikki and Chris setting up the camera.  “Ready?,” my doctor asks. I begin to push.

At 1:09 AM on June 20, 2002, I become a mom.  My dark-haired, doe-eyed Emma comes into the world to her mother’s laughter and her father’s tears.  “A birth made for TV!” my doctor says.

When my daughter is placed on my chest, I don’t notice the cameras at all.  I only see Emma, my daughter.  As I study a little face that looks like my own, I am no longer concerned about what others will see on their television screens.

When friends comment on my laughably easy delivery, I offer the disclaimer that, yes, I did have an easy delivery.  That, according to my doctor, all that waiting around actually helped the baby down the birth canal quite naturally.  But TV shows do get edited.  In my episode, we see only two pushes so it appears as if my daughter just slips out of me. For the sake of being truthful, I do feel an element of reality is lost.

There were many people who cautioned us not to broadcast our birth to millions of people.  That giving birth was a private moment meant only for the parents.  That my emotions would be false.  That I’d feel embarrassed when it was aired.  I took the risk because I was willing to accept the outcome.

Giving birth on national television added excitement to an event you wouldn’t imagine could get any better.  It didn’t falsify my emotions, but rather, heightened my joy.  Thanks to A Baby Story, my family and friends from all across the country and parts of Europe were able to collectively bear witness to a new family member being born.

Perhaps one day when Emma is twelve, she will roll her eyes at the mere mention of A Baby Story and the vision of her young mom who joyfully heralded her arrival.  But it’s our sincerest wish that in time, she will look to this video as a priceless gift.  Emma will have the privilege of sharing with us the most defining moment of our lives.  The day we became a family.

— Stephanie J. Karp

The post What It’s Like To Give Birth On National Television appeared first on Stephanie Karp.

Click on photos to enlarge.

Pause playlist at the bottom of my blog to hear these videos — special moments from our first official day of bonding today. After 10 minutes of crying today, Batyr Han finally settled in with us exceptionally well. Enjoy!

Photos taken during Day 1 of Bonding — Tuesday, December 15, 2009 4-6 pm Almaty, Kazakhstan BH #3

I am writing these notes 36 hours after this day happened and though I said I’d remember all the details, it is hard. I can remember that Batyrhan was brought in to see us in a tiny room off of his group’s room. It was a room in between a few rooms and therefore was a passage way for the passing by of caregivers and staff. The room had a desk, and above that was a list of the children in his group and their birthdays. His schedule of classes was also listed. The children get up at 6 am and go to sleep at 9 pm, with a nap from 12-3. They are woken up so early and go to bed so late I guess to allow time for the caregivers to handle the needs of the 8 children. They are fed every 4 hours. I think there is one caregiver and one teacher in his group, though by now it looks like I have seen three different women with him. Or maybe they are all blending in together. Some of them wear medical masks so it’s hard to tell. In the room also is a high up window covered by a gauzy curtain, a small refrigerator and a hot plate. There are also lockers on the walls. The rug is an Oriental style rug. Everything seems overall sparse and clean, though far from modern.

Batyrhan was brought in by a caregiver who held him outward with his back against her chest. When he saw us, the first sign of his distress was a very heavy breathing through his nostrils, as if to try to contain himself. But hold back he could no longer do and he cried and cried and cried. The caregiver, desperate to make him stop, got down on bended knee to where I had laid out some toys on a small child’s wooden table and just started talking to him and bouncing him and shaking toys in his face, and now this one, and squeak this one and here’s this toy and that. All the while Batyrhan was distressed and crying and there was no opportunity, though I was beside them, to do any calm mothering. Finally, our translator said something to her in Russian and the caregiver got up quickly, placed Batyrhan on the floor facing us and quickly hightailed it out of there! She did come back with two candies and one Animal cracker. These candies are such that I would never ever give a child of this age, especially with all the choking fears I have after having witness severe situations with Eden and Emma. The candy was like a very hard caramel, shaped like a small tootsie roll but a very hard chew. He put the whole thing in his mouth and seemed to do fine but my heart was in my throat.

After about 10 minutes of solid crying after which I kept murmuring my concerns over his sadness, he discovered that he loved the Gumball machine toy which spits out the balls when you press a lever, donated to us here by Jen. We taught him how to use it and he eventually got the hang of the process of put balls in, press lever down and back again. He enjoyed the game where Gary would teeter the ball on the edge and then push it in.

We took out many toys but the gumball was a favorite as well as a few finger puppet books. Surprisingly bubbles did not go over so well. He did his heavy breathing a bit and then didn’t look too interested. The balloon was only interesting for a minute. But I also think that, since he liked balloons after Day 2, all this was just because everything was so new and overwhelming, and the room was distracting in a way.

As the photos show, we did manage to get some giggles and smiles from Batyrhan. What a joy to see his little teeth (8 on top and 6 on bottom — 2 molars each on top and bottom). What a joy to see bright eyes and a wide smile and adorable teeth.

I kissed his cheek for the first time today and breathed in, wondering what this boy would smell like and was happy to detect a faint scent of a baby style soap. His face could look cleaner, but he’s also eating candy and cookies. But his hair looks clean and his fingernails look clipped well.

One interesting thing I noted was that I wanted to take a peek and see what his back looked like and when I left up his 3 shirts, he whipped around so fast and pushed my hand away with strength. He did not like the touch of my hand on his bare skin, and yesterday did not like Gary to touch his leg over his tights. (Day 2 was different as he wanted to be tickled.) Soon enough, I was able to blow cool air on his back with my mouth and make him smile (he was probably boiling hot!) and by the very end of the visit, I was able to gently caress the 3 square inches of his lower back while he played happily and ignored my touch. I guess it is all about trust.

When it was time for the caregiver to come take him back, we all waved and said “paka paka” with this little arm flapping up and down. As we gathered our things, he could still see us through the open doorway of his group’s room and we looked back at him looking back at us and his arm flapped back and forth again.

I left there feeling a happiness, a sweet sadness and a relief – this little guy is going to be our boy and it’s going to work out just fine.

The post Thrilled to Introduce the Little Boy We Have Been Dreaming Of!! appeared first on Stephanie Karp.