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Madeline Tiger, a poet, wrote, "The instant of birth is exquisite. Pain and joy are one at this moment. Ever after, the dim recollection is so sweet that we speak to our children with a gratitude they never understand."

After reading Leslie Jamison's "A Personal History of the C-Section," I contemplated Tiger's quote about the exact moment we usher a new life into the world and how the experience shapes our views.

Jamison drives the point home while talking about undergoing a caesarean section, explaining to others how it was an emergency, overcoming the stigma that, at times, has been associated with the procedure.

While the author sprinkles statistics about the rate in which the operation is performed, it's a question she poses - why do we want so much from our birth stories - that gave pause to how each of my daughter's births differed. None of my girls were delivered via C-section. Natural childbirth, sans drugs or an epidural, each time.

Cassie was the shortest labor, two hours of intense contractions. Her birth story involves what wasn't delivered; her twin brother died in utero when I was three months pregnant. With the exception of testing to determine what happened to the twin, her delivery was classic textbook.

Amanda, on the other hand, decided to enter this world on her own terms. I tease her every year about me standing in the checkout lane at the neighborhood grocery store, my water breaking and consequently telling the teenage cashier that 1.) The items were no longer needed and 2.) Cleanup in the checkout lane was necessary. After three and one-half hours, the contractions stopped. Add a little PIT drip and within 30 minutes, our bouncing baby girl made her debut.

I was in labor with Courtney for six hours, five of which were spent in the delivery room after a nurse incorrectly noted how close I was to giving birth. At one point, my husband and the doctor exited the delivery room because "they needed a break." Um, I wasn't getting a break ... and I really needed one.

Upon their return, I grabbed hubby by the neck of the blue hospital gown, pulled him close to my face and told him this was the last time we would be in this situation. And with one push, as the clock registered 7:11, Courtney Anne said hello, world.

Now, our daughters have their own birth stories, like Courtney waving the white flag to surrender while in labor with Jorden or Krystal's long labor waiting for Dustin's arrival or all of the false alarms Amanda had before Jayden arrived. Some of those births were via C-section, healthy deliveries of precious cargo.

Like Tiger writes, pain and joy were one during each of these moments. Each situation is unique, filled with defining moments that set it apart.

Sometimes, I wonder if we put all of our stock into the actual moment of delivery that we forget about the moments and milestones which follow. Like Jamison concludes, we focus on birth as the beginning when new life brings multiple new beginnings, whether it's the first time the child rolls over or utters undecipherable syllables or masters potty training.

The instant of birth is exquisite and unique and memorable, and so are each and every moment we breathe life into our words and actions, watching our children and yes, grandchildren, make their way through this world.

It's a life-changing experience that offers focus and purpose and joy in this world.