Her Birth Story and A Full Moon: Part III

I'm writing this last part curled up in bed, holding my daughter as she is nursing. She is laying across my body, my shirt is pulled up over my chest and my milk has just come in. It's a sensation that reminds me of the morning she arrived. Seems like the perfect way to finish her birth story. Which, by the way, is a bit hazy, and rightly so.

As I was struggling to stay present, I heard the nurse say the baby's heart rate dropped and to call the doctor right away. It didn't matter what state of mind I was in, those words were clear. This was my baby, I was so close to meeting her, I would have done anything to make sure she was safe. The nurse laid me back on the bed and put an oxygen mask over my face. After that, my vision began going in and out and I just remember hearing lots of beeping, feet shuffling, and feeling my body being lifted up onto an operating table. I was going to need an emergency C-section.

The nurses rolled me down the hall to the operating room. Zach was left alone, he was praying. I didn't feel scared though, even through all the panic I still felt calm inside. My body might have appeared otherwise, but my heart and mind felt at ease. Even with my spotty vision, and the need for an oxygen mask, I kept myself as calm as I possibly could. I didn't want to add to the chaos that was already present, I didn't want to cause any more stress on my baby. I reminded myself that one way or another I was going to be holding her soon.

The operating room was the brightest room I have ever been in. The light pierced through my eyelids and I was in the center of the room. I remember thinking about The Gross Clinic painting by Thomas Eakins, except this was a sterile environment and there wasn't an audience. I opened my tired eyes every so often to see the nurses scramble around the room prepping equipment for my C-section. I was also going to need anesthesia for this surgery, so that was being prepared as well. They were all working as fast as they could while the baby's heart rate continued to drop. Within what felt like minutes they were all ready and my doctor finally arrived. He was standing in blue scrubs at the foot of the operating table as calm as could be. I needed to see that. We were then all surprised that her heart rate started to normalize.

I was definitely more aware of my surroundings at this point, maybe it was the intense light or the calming demeanor of my doctor, but either way, I was feeling stronger. Her heart rate was back to normal, my breathing had steadied again, and I was fully dilated. It was a huge relief for everyone in that operating room. Finally, my body was telling me to push. A feeling I will never forget. While the contractions had been painful, pushing was surprisingly alleviating. I was actually in pain when I wasn't pushing, my body's way of telling me it was good, this was supposed to happen. After a few good pushes, I asked where Zach was. They told me he was right next to me, so I tilted my head to the right and through my blurry vision my eyes met his. He had come in shortly after I started pushing and was in blue scrubs like the rest of them. I reached for his hand as he sat next to me; this was as much as he could hold me throughout the rest of my labor.

My doctor counted to three as I pushed and instructed me when to stop and breath. He was coaching me, telling me when I had a good push and encouraging me to push harder. I was fully present again, except for my vision, which was still blurry and would continue to be blurry even after the baby arrived. I laughed and joked between push breaks, telling the nurses I was craving ice cream and reminding them all how good of a job they were doing helping me. They all laughed. And when I felt the pressure to push again, the room would become serious. The nurses guided my legs towards my upper body so I could hold them while I pushed. The anesthesia tech supported my shoulders and head as I leaned forward and placed a cold cloth over my forehead to help cool my body. Zach held my hands when he could, motivating me with his words and intense gaze. Everyone was so incredibly encouraging. I felt like I was in a race and they were cheering me on to the finish line, yelling "You've got this, one more push!"

And then she crowned. The excitement in the room seeped into every inch of my body. This was it, the last push. The nurse helped her little body out of mine. I deflated, in the best way. Chills set in and I started to shake uncontrollably from the trauma I just experienced; it was time for my body to relax and recover. They immediately placed her in my arms, on my bare chest. Zach cut her umbilical cord, releasing the internal connection and allowing an external bond to form. I still couldn't see clearly, so I asked Zach is she was cute. With a sound of relief in his voice and tears in his eyes, he assured me she was beautiful. We had become parents at 1:01 am with a full moon in the sky and our baby in our arms.