I miss writing. I started my English class online and the writing bug bit me again. I want to share with you my first writing for English. The instructor asked for us to write a narrative. Please enjoy!
I was awaking to an unfamiliar sensation: a scenario that I read in books and I prepared myself for. However, to be faced with this with nine months of preparation, I began to fear. “Childbirth is a time when a woman’s power and strength emerge full force, but it is also a vulnerable time, and a time of many changes presenting opportunities for personal growth.”
It was July 14, 2008 at 2:30 am when I awoke to my water breaking. Since this was my first child, I still was uncertain that my water was breaking. I rushed to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Maybe I was dreaming? Therefore, I splashed cold water onto my face and looked back into the mirror. My question was shortly answered, when a voiding sensation would not stop evening though I was not using the restroom. Now, the journey begins.
I woke my husband up and grab my overnight bag. I stood at the door waiting for my husband to get dressed. I was no longer filled with fear but excitement. It is finally here. The day I get to meet my baby boy. John (my husband) with phone to hear was calling my mother in a frantic manner explaining to her that we were on the way to give birth. “No Tracy, this is not a false alarm,” John expressed in a sarcastic manner. We walked hand in hand to our car. This was the last time it will only be us two: husband and wife. Next time we walk together in our yard, we will be a family.
I was admitted to a labor and delivery room. No longer a triage room! The nurse placed the heart rate monitor on my ever so expanding belly. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. Whoosh. Whoosh. Ba bump. Ba bump. Tears began to flow down my face. His heart rate was perfect and he was moving around. I placed my hand tightly to my stomach, giving it one last hug. And I whispered “No longer will you be protected inside. Soon you are going to face the world. However, mommy and daddy will always be your protectors. I love you Curtis.” It was a happy and sad reality that he wouldn’t be inside me anymore. I had carried this precious baby inside me for nine months.
Ten hours has passed and he was stubborn. The nurses began to elevate my bed to a sitting upright position. I was 9 cm; however, he was stuck. The purpose of my bed becoming into this ridiculously huge chair was to let gravity do its job by allowing Curtis to descend. An hour passed and he was in the birth canal. Now, I began to push.
The doctor told the nurse to turn off the epidural because it was effecting my pushing. I started to have tunnel vision. The sounds around me became muffled. He wouldn’t move. He was stuck. I began to search around the room to find familiar faces. John, right beside me holding my hand, was pale. “Mom! Where are you?” She gently laid her hand upon my face and kissed me. Very softly she said, “Sara. Do this for Curtis. You need to push. You need to get Curtis out. He can’t breathe anymore.”
Automatically, like it was a 6th sense I had, I pushed. There was no thinking involved. I told him I would protect him. I will not fail. The doctor looked at me and I knew that I had to give it my all or I would be rushed into an emergency c-section. I nodded in his direction. He then proceeded to aide me by vacuuming him out of the birth canal. Curtis was here. I saw my son for the first time but it wasn’t right. He was grey and blue. No crying. Why isn’t he crying!? The nurse told my mom to shut of the camera. “Curtis. Cry for momma. Come on sweety. Everything is okay now.” I said softly in my mind; however, I thought I was screaming it. Seconds passed but it was an eternity. John squeezed my hand tightly and with that we heard a noise: a faint cry. He fought. He was here.
Shortly after we all heard his first cry, the doctor placed him onto my stomach. I looked at him in amazement but something was still wrong. He didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. Why isn’t he still crying? I told John, “Something’s wrong. Give him back!” The nurse then took Curtis away. It would be another four hours until I got to see him again. Luckily, I did see him again: alive, rose pinched cheeks and making unforgettable noises. I was told that Curtis had fluid backed up into his lungs and it was preventing him from breathing. It was a simple fix but something major.
Now, life began. There weren’t any more complications with Curtis. He was healthy and happy, and so were John and I. We were discharge three days later. As John drove home, 5 mph under the speed limit with the hazard lights on, I sat beside my son as his mother. “The moments a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.”
