Introduction
Jackson
“Jackson, is the baby OK?” I heard my girlfriend, Sara, the mother of my newborn child, scream. I stood vigil by her side as she pushed for over two hours to deliver our son. Watching a baby being born was way more traumatizing than I ever thought. I had been so focused on Sara during the delivery that all I felt was relief when Dr. Hadley said the baby was here. It never occurred to me to look at the baby and ask if he was OK or not.
I admit I was completely overwhelmed by how long it took for the baby to be delivered and how much pain Sara had to endure. Childbirth was gory and frightening, like a scene from one of the horror flicks Sara and I liked to watch. Except this wasn’t a movie, it was real life. Delivering a baby was a long, painful, and messy experience, and I’d never been so thankful to be a guy in my entire life. I could barely stand watching what Sara was going through. There were moments when I thought I was going to be sick. I’d heard people say that having a baby is a beautiful and miraculous experience, but I wasn’t feeling any of those emotions. The entire process that I just witnessed didn’t feel beautiful or miraculous. It was scary.
I tried to be encouraging and supportive through what seemed like endless hours of childbirth, but I was having a really hard time keeping my composure. Even with the epidural, Sara was in a lot of pain, and it was obvious she was completely exhausted. I didn’t think our baby would ever be born. By the time he finally came out, all of my attention was on my girlfriend.
I was so grateful my mother was in the room during the delivery—especially now, since it looked like something was seriously wrong with our son. My mom held Sara’s hand while she pushed. She gave her words of encouragement and kept us both focused on the task at hand. Her presence was such a godsend. Sara and my mom had an awesome relationship. I was really happy when she asked my mother to be in the room with us when she delivered the baby. I needed my mom there as much as Sara did.
We have some pretty interesting family dynamics. Sara’s father, Ian, married my mother, Katharine, a year and a half ago. They met about a year after my dad died. My parents had a great relationship that lasted almost thirty years. The marriage ended abruptly when my dad had a fatal heart attack that left my mother a widow at the age of forty-seven. After he died she became consumed with grief, and I thought I was going to lose her too. Fortunately she met a man named Ian Jensen, who brought her back to life. They were married in Italy during Christmas break last year. They couldn’t be more in love, and I couldn’t be happier that they found one another.
When I was introduced to Ian and his two daughters at a Thanksgiving dinner two and a half years ago, I was instantly smitten with his youngest daughter. We started dating soon after we met. We fell in love and have been very happy together ever since. After a contraception mishap, we discovered we were pregnant. Today we were having a baby boy. And he was blue.
“Dr. Hadley, what is wrong with the baby?” I asked nervously.
The doctor looked very serious, and it made me even more afraid. She spoke calmly and quickly. “I’m not exactly sure, Jackson. We’re going to take the baby to the NICU and have him examined.” With that being said, Dr. Hadley and two nurses took off with the baby in what seemed to be a controlled panic mode. I looked down at Sara. She wasn’t crying. She had the strangest look on her face. I think she was in shock.
“Mom, what’s going on?” God, I was so glad she was there. My mother was a levelheaded, brilliant attorney who loved Sara like her own daughter. She was also my rock.
My mother looked serious, which made me even more afraid. “I’m not sure, honey. Let me go see what I can find out. I need you to stay with Sara. She’ll need your guidance as she delivers the afterbirth. I need you both to remain calm and think positive thoughts. I’ll be back as soon as I find something out.” My mother kissed the top of Sara’s head and disappeared through the door.
My panic was rising. I was still holding Sara’s hand. My other hand was brushing her sweaty hair away from her face. I wasn’t even aware I was touching her hair at first. I guess I needed to do something with my hands, because I was so nervous that the baby was dead. She looked catatonic. I was petrified. I hadn’t been this scared since my dad died. I felt frozen in time, not knowing what to do or say. Why was our baby blue? Was he dead? Was he going to be brain damaged? This could not be happening. We were both young and healthy. The baby had to be fine.
As Dr. Hadley was leaving the room, another doctor took the baby from her so she could come back to help Sara. I heard someone say something about a Neonatal specialist looking after the baby, but I wasn’t exactly sure. “OK, Sara, we need to finish up our work here so you can relax. As we discussed at your last visit, the nurse will be pushing down on your stomach to help us deliver the placenta. It may be a little uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t take very long. The hard part is definitely over. Once the placenta is removed, I’ll stitch you up, and you can get some rest. How does that sound?”
Sara was as white as a ghost and staring into space. I wasn’t sure if she had heard the doctor or not. Suddenly I saw her lips move. “Is my baby dead?” she said in a whisper.
The doctor patted her leg and gave her a reassuring smile. “No, he is not dead. It appears the umbilical cord was wrapped three times around his neck, and he was deprived of oxygen. They’re doing everything they can to revive him. Right now we need to focus on you.”
“It’s my fault,” Sara mumbled.
I was glad the doctor heard her. I wasn’t sure what to say. “No, sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault. It’s actually more common than you think. Now, I need you to focus on me for just a minute. Can you please push one more time?” she asked gently.
Sara continued to stare into space, but she did what the doctor asked of her. She pushed down, not making a sound. I held her hand tightly. I wanted to say something encouraging, but I was too scared. I didn’t know if our baby was dead or not. This was such a nightmare.
Sara only had to push a few more times before the doctor was able to remove the placenta. It was larger than I expected and very bloody. She put it in a bowl and handed it to one of the nurses. Looking at it made me feel queasy. I could understand why some dads faint during the delivery. But this wasn’t time to be thinking about myself. After what Sara just went through and the fact that something was wrong with our baby motivated me to stay focused on them and ignore how I was feeling.
After the remains of the afterbirth were removed, Dr. Hadley cleaned up her vagina and put a few stitches in the area where she had torn. Although I watched everything that was going on, I didn’t feel even remotely present. I felt like I was having some kind of outer body experience. There was quiet chatter in the room, but I have no idea what anyone was saying. I couldn’t stop staring at Sara’s face.
“Excellent job, Sara,” I heard the doctor say. “We are almost done.”
Once Sara was cleaned up and the doctor finished giving her the stitches, the nurses changed her bedding. One nurse brought a heating pad for Sara’s stomach and a glass of juice that she made her drink. She still had an IV hooked up to her. The nurse commented that Sara needed to stay hydrated, so they would leave the IV in for a little while longer. As the nurse chatted about everything that was happening, Sara remained mute. I had never seen her like that. I was terrified.
When the nurse finally left the room, Sara and I were alone. I absentmindedly pulled a chair over and sat down, never letting go of her hand. I was afraid I might collapse if I didn’t sit down. We didn’t speak. I knew I should mumble something optimistic, but I couldn’t. I kept thinking, we are young and healthy. How could there be something wrong with our baby? What if he died? I couldn’t handle another death.
It was so eerily quiet in the room, I was afraid to breathe. The silence made me even more anxious. I took Sara’s hand in both of mine and rested my head on it. This was not how this scene was supposed to play out.
I don’t know how long I sat there. I do know that Sara continued to stare into space, saying nothing. I closed my eyes, willing all of this craziness to go away. I hated not knowing what was going on. I prayed for our baby to be all right. I thought of my dad. I remembered the moment when I’d gotten the feeling from him that I was doing the right thing by having this baby. I’d also had the overwhelming sensation that I was having a son. It was the only sign I’d received from him after he’d died, and I cherished it. Now he was the one I was thinking about. I prayed to him for a sign that our baby was going to be OK.