Sarah Nigbor

I’ve been accused of being stubborn, like it’s a bad thing. I personally feel it is part of my fine character. A more flattering term might be persevering, or perhaps determined. Anyway, it serves me well – most of the time.

For example, I absolutely despise grocery shopping. It’s one of the tasks I hate most in the world. Wandering the aisles looking for deals, wondering what to cook for dinner for the 10 millionth time, dodging shopping carts and browsing customers, despairing in the checkout line about the one item I forgot but refusing to go back for it. It’s terrible. Therefore, when I go, I make sure to make it count. I pack my cart so full you couldn’t fit a sheet of paper in it. And when I get home, I’m bound and determined that we will get it all inside in ONE TRIP.

With four kids and a husband, this isn’t usually a problem. I also practice what I preach. I load myself down like a pack mule (they’re stubborn too, right?), with bags strung up my arms like bracelets. I strain and groan and heave myself up the 14 concrete steps to our front door, praying my muscles won’t give out (my chiropractor is hopefully not reading this) as I lumber for what seems like miles. And why on earth did we buy a house with this layout? Hindsight is 20/20.

But thanks to my stubborn tenacity, usually all the groceries end up in the house in one trip, so only one trip up the onerous concrete outside steps is necessary. I have mastered the art of carrying as many things as humanly possible at one time. My back might not like it, but my iron will appreciates it.

Stubbornness saw me through a terrible birth experience. It was the best day of my life, but the birth itself was terrifying. When I gave birth to my daughter 12 years ago, I swore up and down I wasn’t going to take any pain medication. I was going to feel every searing pain and tough it out, like my ancestors did. I don’t like taking pain medication because it makes me feel icky, so that was another reason. And I stuck to my guns for 20 hours of labor – until I physically couldn’t take it anymore.

Apparently, my sweet daughter is just as stubborn as her mother. She was 10 days late and still didn’t want to come out. I had to be induced and after 20 hours of hard labor, she was stuck in my birth canal and her heart rate was failing. I was exhausted and scared. I gave in and allowed them to give me an epidural because they were wheeling me into the operating room for an emergency C-section. My body stubbornly refused to allow the epidural to do its magic. I’m not sure what went wrong, but I felt the surgeon’s knife as she sliced across my abdomen. The pain was unimaginable and I teetered close to unconsciousness. The last thing I remember was  thinking I was being gutted like a deer. The doctor knocked me out with some medication concoction and I woke up two hours later a new mother. Not exactly what I envisioned, but we made it through.

My grandpa always said he was a stubborn Swede; my grandmother often said Norwegians were stubborn. My other grandpa said the Finns were known for being stubborn. I guess since I’m all three I just can’t help it.