The Miracle of Life

I left the house at 5:45 this morning for roughly a two hour drive to the tiniest hospital I have ever seen.  Ever.  So small I drove right past it and ended up circling a mountaintop somewhere.  Eventually I arrived and headed inside for one hell of a ride.

My neice was born at 11:17.  Seven pounds, four ounces, twenty-one inches long.  Healthy.  Perfect.  Absolutely adorable.

I missed my nephew's birth almost five years ago because my sister was living across the country at the time.  And Punky came via C-section with me behind a sheet, drugged and exhausted after nineteen hours of labor, so I virtually missed the whole thing.  They say childbirth is a miracle worth witnessing.  I made damn sure I didn't miss this one.  

My sister arrived at the hospital at 4:30 a.m. for a planned induction due to a blood disorder.  She had the same issue with my nephew.  Once they broke her water, she progressed super fast and he was born fifty minutes later.  I made sure I got on the road early in case history repeated itself.

And it did.

When I arrived, she was having some mild contractions and things weren't progressing much at all.  In about an hour, they intensified a tad and unfortunately hit her in the lower back.  I had all back labor with Punky and I remember it all too well.  I felt her pain.

About another hour later, the doctor finally arrived and checked her cervix.  Four centimeters.  She decided it was time to break her water and see what developed.  The roller coaster left the station and started its clinky-clanky assent to the top.

Ten minutes later, my sister was yelling.  Crying.  Begging for drugs.  And fast.  While the hospital staff debated on whether or not it was safe for her to have an epidural due to the heparin injections she was taking, a transformation occured and my sister morphed into something hardly recognizable.  And she was threatening to push.

To the absolute astonishment of the nurses and doctor, in a matter of minutes she went from four to nine centimeters and the baby was coming.  Even though she warned them about her last experience, they weren't ready.  Not even close.  At any rate, this development ended the epidural debate.  It was too late now.  All bets were off.  She was on her own. 

The next ten minutes lasted forever.  With every contraction, her face went from light carnation pink to rosey red in three seconds flat.  Her mouth opened one hundred and eighty degrees as she let out screams capable of raising the dead.  The nurse literally held her legs closed and begged her not to push.  By this point, I couldn't help but cry.  It was awful to see her in so much pain.
Seemed like a lifetime till they were finally ready to catch the baby.

Once set up, it only took two pushes for her tiny head to emerge.  I almost fainted.  The doctor pulled for all she was worth but finally reached for the scissors and I heard a snip.  I almost fainted again.  One more push and gush and out she came.  This time I think I may have blacked out for a few seconds but thankfully regained my composure without hitting the floor. 

And I was still crying, but now it was tears of relief and joy.  I was at a loss for words over everything I had witnessed.  Talk about a whirlwind of emotions.  I couldn't take my eyes off the beautiful little girl experiencing her world for the very first time.  It took my breath away.

Welcome to the world, Emersyn Grace.  I'm so happy I was able to be there for your grand entrance.  And I will always remember the twenty-minute wild ride leading up to it.  That I can guarantee.