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Life is Wild (Part 1)

I recall the feeling of being totally confused about what was happening. I remember putting the pad on my underwear to catch any additional “water” (as I thought it was) through the night, so it didn’t soak into our sheets. I remember that I had two pint size glasses of water to drink before bed, and that it sometimes took some rocking back and forth to be able to urinate, that this child was getting huge, and all he wanted to do was sit on my bladder like it was a cloud. I also recollect the fear I felt when I spoke with the doctor’s office the next morning as they told me to go straight to the emergency room. I feared for my child’s life more than I feared for anything else. And at that moment, I knew I was a mommy. In trouble.

My water had broken while my husband and I were intimate. I didn’t know that this was my bag of waters, I simply thought it was all of the water coming out that I was drinking earlier in the night. I slept through the night with the pad, and in morning, went to work. After going to the bathroom, I turned around and noticed there was a large amount of blood in the toilet. I ran out and asked my girlfriend to come in to the bathroom. There I told her what had happened, and that I had no pains, no cramping, didn’t feel any different, except for the fact that my stomach looked a little smaller than it had the day before. I was only five-and-a-half months pregnant, but this was going to be a big baby. He was already measuring larger than the norm. I called the office and was told to go directly to the hospital. Upon arrival, more blood and water came out, and it came to me. I’m going into Preterm Labor. This can’t be. How could I not have known what was happening? My mother knows EVERYTHING. I’m supposed to be a mom, and I have no idea what’s going on with my body or my child … he was my first child. I was naive to all the things that could happen.

As the doctor explained what the shot in the rear was for, I couldn’t help but wonder, does this mean he’s coming out anytime soon? Now mind you, I’m not an idiot. I know things. But this event, I could not comprehend. It was almost like I was from a different planet, just learning how earthlings live. After the examination, he told me my cervix was dilated, and that since the bag was totally torn, and not just faintly ripped, that I would be giving birth to my first child in pretty short order. He also told me that the hospital we were at didn’t have the facilities, technology, machines, techs, or physicians to perform this surgery and assist my baby after the birth. He said he was going to transfer me to a larger hospital in the city. And I stayed somewhat calm while my husband sat in horror in the chair by the window, watching the blizzard start.

The ambulance drove me to the hospital, normally forty-five minutes away, (this ride took two hours due to inclement weather) and I was taken to the Labor and Delivery Room. As soon as I was wheeled in, ten people if not more rushed in and started to prepare the room for what was about to happen. I was strapped with a fetal monitor. They took my temperature. They placed a blood pressure cuff that puffed up every five minutes. And they all looked at me with this look as if they already knew our fate. And here I am, still calm, yet confused. I’m glad they’re here to help me and my baby. But why am I here in the first place? Did I do something wrong?

One hour went by, and the constant flow of different nurses and physicians ceased. One physician came in to the room, and told me that during the shift change, the physicians got together and decided that they couldn’t allow the baby’s heart rate to decelerate any longer. They were going to take the baby out, via c-section, and they needed to do it now. She said to me, is this ok with you, do you understand what’s happening? And I said, Yes, please whatever you have to do to save my child, please do it now. And with that last word, another ten nurses and physicians rushed in the room and began prepping me for surgery. A clean catch urine sample here (which by the way is not the most pleasing feeling in the world), a needle stick in the arm there, a hairnet over my head, and away we went. This is not how I pictured it happening. My husband was not in sight anymore, and I was starting to shake. Badly. As I was pulled up to sit on my bottom, I felt small cold hands on my back. Then cold liquid. I was told to hunch over and push my back out. I felt a prick, then a burning sensation, then a shock in my right leg as the needle entered my spine. I was getting a spinal. They laid me down on the bed and the sheet was pulled up in front of my head. My arms were restrained to the beds arms, and I heard someone talking to me. It was this lovely lady who introduced herself as the anesthesiologist. She asked me what I was feeling. I said Wow, that was fast, and as I said that, I realized that I could still feel them tugging on the bed sheets underneath me. I asked her to Wait, that I could still feel something going on down there, and she then proceeded to crank the bed downwards at the head. Ahh, that was better. She took a needle and said “This is a needle. Tell me if you feel anything, I’m going to prick your leg.” Nothing. Felt Nothing. It was go time.

I recall lying on that table, looking up at the ceiling, trying to process all that has happened within the last eight hours. It’s hard. So much information is so little time. I was woken out of my daze by my husband’s voice, telling me he was there and saying he could see something weird sticking out of my body. My husband and I are jokers with each other, so it normally wouldn’t have phased me. But this time, my arms started shaking so badly that they were actually coming off the table. I was given a sedative, that hardly worked, and then Benadryl for the reaction to the sedative. All the tugging I felt, all the pulling, all the breathlessness, went away when I heard “It’s a boy!” I was so happy, I started to cry and I heard my husband say “We have a baby …” and when they brought him to see us, I couldn’t even see his face.  He was so wrapped up in blankets to keep him warm and safe, I just touched the blanket and said hello to my baby boy.

Part 1  |  (Part 2)

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